The Fool
by myusernamehere83
Summary: Katniss Everdeen can see the future. She doesn't like what she sees. Modern AU. Originally written for S2SL 2015. Thank you so much to streetlightlove for running this wonderful charity campaign and all who support it.


"You're scared."

"I'm not scared," Peeta bristled.

"Bullshit, Mellark," Finnick retorted; his sea green eyes flashed with amusement.

Peeta huffed in aggravation, crossing his arms over his chest. "I told you I don't believe in this stuff. It's a waste of time and money."

"Yeah, yeah. You're just worried about what you might find out," the female to his left piped up. He looked at her briefly, meeting the challenge in her wide-set brown eyes. Johanna Mason was a friend of Finnick's. He didn't know her that well yet, but it was easy to see why the two of them got along so well. And tonight, they had seemingly decided to gang up on him.

The late summer air was rife with humidity, causing beads of sweat to break out across his flesh. In frustration, he pushed a blond tuft of hair off his forehead, his gaze sweeping across the large parking lot where they were currently gathered. A steady stream of laughter and shrieking echoed throughout the carnival grounds, reverberating off the crowds that billowed in every direction. His eyes bounced from one neon-lit booth to another, and as he focused on a young girl dragging a teddy bear along the pavement, Finnick goaded, "So, what's it going to be? You going to chicken out on us or what?"

"Fine," he finally conceded, knowing that his friends would give him shit all night long if he didn't. He honestly wasn't afraid; he just knew fortune tellers were a rip off. And that money could serve a much better purpose. Basically _any_ other purpose. Still, he tucked his head into the tent before them, his pupils contracting due to the lack of light. It was eerily quiet, unnerving him a bit. "Hello?" Peeta called out amidst the darkness. "Anyone in here?"

"Back here," a female voice registered. For some reason, he was expecting it to sound old and gravelly, but this voice was young and soft, like a feather dusting the inner canal of his earlobe. He followed the source to the tattered curtain several yards in front of him, and when he stepped behind it, his eyebrows lilted with interest.

A girl his own age sat behind a table with a handwritten sign that read _Madame Everdeen_. It wasn't at all what he expected, this girl with her small frame and olive complexion. Her hair was as black as a moonless night, shimmering like a piece of onyx beneath the glow of several strategically placed candles, and her mysterious gray eyes beckoned him to sit. He did immediately, already feeling entranced by her beauty.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Um, Peeta," he said, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Peeta Mellark."

She took in his appearance, noting the blonde curls that fell like waves across his face, the bright blue eyes that were full of intrigue, and the broad shoulders that segued into a solid build. Nodding, she said, "I do palm and Tarot card readings. Which do you prefer?"

"What, no crystal ball?" he teased. But his joke didn't elicit a single chuckle from her. Not even the hint of a smile. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he muttered, "Uh, I guess the Tarot card reading is fine."

"You should know that this is for entertainment purposes only. The cards selected represent a reflection of the energy present in this space," she told him.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that this is not a definitive look at your future. Your feelings about a situation or what you are doing might change over time, and that would obviously alter the outcome." Peeta nodded slowly. "Okay then. Cost is $25. I only take cash." She stared at him expectantly as she kept her hands folded together.

Peeta muttered to himself about how Finnick owed him big time. $25 for a reading about a future that might not even exist was a _huge_ ripoff.

But there was something about this girl, something that he couldn't quite place his finger on. She was attractive, no doubt, but there was something else in her demeanor and in her eyes that demanded his attention. He didn't know why, but his gut told him that she was important, that ultimately she would have a very profound effect on him. Maybe that idea was ridiculous; 15 minutes with her wasn't going to change his life. But a sense of urgency surged and crackled beneath the surface of his skin, electrifying his insides.

So he reached into his wallet, pulling out two crisp bills. He handed the money over, and she nodded with satisfaction before placing a deck of Tarot cards onto the table. "Please shuffle these."

He grabbed the deck, doing as she asked. When he put them back down on the table, she told him to cut the cards. Again, he did as he was told. Madame Everdeen explained to him that her hands should not touch the cards, lest her own energy be mixed in with his, giving a false reading. She instructed him to pick five cards from the deck, organizing them into a horseshoe shape.

As he did, she said, "From left to right, these cards will represent your Present Position, your Present Desires, the Unexpected, your Immediate Future, and the Outcome."

With the cards turned over, she began narrating a pretty accurate depiction of his current situation; he was well-liked by many due to his congenial nature. He had a clever and artistic mind, though he often used physical activity such as sports as a means of expression or for working through frustrations in his life. Although overall positive about his present position, he had certain concerns as well.

His family life was thick with tension, particularly the relationship with his mother. There were fears about his future, whether he would get into a good school or not. And there were questions about his current romantic status as well. Even though he often had the attention of many, it was not the kind of attention he sought.

Peeta looked at the next card with curiosity: The Fool.

"What does this one mean?" he wondered.

"It could mean a number of different things, like a warning that a significant change is coming," she explained. "Or perhaps it means taking action where the circumstances are unknown. Taking risks if you will."

Peeta licked his bottom lip as he watched her intently. Was that some kind of hidden message she was sending his way? Maybe the significant change began with him walking into this tent. Maybe she was the risk he was supposed to take. Words that usually came so easy to him felt heavy on his tongue, and as he tried to gather the courage to voice what was bubbling in his throat, she suddenly became very tense.

Her eyes dimmed as she stared at the last two cards on the table and something like fear or pain flickered across her features. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, the rigidness of her stance or the drastic change in her complexion. Her face grew quite pale, and her breath came out in quick, shallow puffs.

Peeta's stomach knotted as she became more and more agitated. Her neck snapped up, fire burning in her eyes as she stared at him defiantly. A shiver crept up his spine at the expression on her face. "What–what's wrong?" he stammered.

"Get out," she practically snarled.

"Wait, why? What's going on?" he muttered with confusion.

She stood up and grabbed the money he had given to her, throwing the bills right back at him. "Take your money and get the hell out of here!" she shouted, pointing toward the exit.

He grasped at the bills in his hands shakily, fumbling to stick them back into his wallet. "Listen, I don't know what I did to offend you. But you're kind of scaring me here, and just… what's happening? What did you see?"

"I swear to God I'll call security. Do you want to get thrown out?"

"Shit, no! There's no reason to call security." He held up his hands in surrender as he took several steps backwards. "I'll just go, okay? I'm walking away." He practically tripped over his own feet as he staggered backwards, and when he felt the tattered curtain brush against his shoulder, he turned and made a sprint toward the exit.

As he reemerged from the tent, he heard some hoots and hollers. Disoriented, he spun in a circle until his eyes landed upon Finnick and Johanna. Finnick squeezed his shoulder. "Congrats, you're no longer a pussy. How's that future looking anyway? Gonna run for office someday? I should probably start learning how to run a proper campaign, huh?"

Peeta blinked, opening his mouth several times to speak. But his voice was extremely dry, and nothing came out.

Johanna laughed at the expression on his face. "Why do you look like somebody kicked your favorite puppy? You're not about to die on us or anything, right?" Peeta just looked back at the tent, shaking his head in confusion. Suddenly, the laughter died in her throat, her hand streaking through her short, spiky locks. "Wait. You're not about to die on us, _right_?" she emphasized.

"What the hell, Jo?" Finnick asked with bewilderment.

"Well, look at him! He's obviously freaked out," she defended.

Finnick looked back at Peeta with a frown. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know what just happened," he finally managed to squeak out.

"What do you mean?"

Peeta wet his lips again. "One minute, everything was fine. We were talking about my current situation, and I thought maybe she was flirting with me or something–"

"Gross," Johanna interrupted, making a gagging noise. "You have a thing for weird old ladies now?"

"No, it wasn't like that," Peeta defended. "She's our age. Anyway, that's not the point. Everything was fine, and then suddenly she was screaming at me to get out of her tent, threatening to call security…"

"Maybe she doesn't like guys hitting on her when she's doing her job?" Johanna offered.

"I didn't hit on her! I didn't do anything. She just went nuts."

Finnick shrugged. "Sounds like every girl I've ever dated. Chicks are crazy, man. They go from one extreme to the next. Hot and then cold."

"Fuck you," Johanna quipped, giving him the finger. "Like men are a walk in the park."

"I wasn't talking about _you_." Finnick offered her one of his trademark smiles, oozing with charm, and she just rolled her eyes.

Peeta sighed deeply. "You guys aren't listening to me. It wasn't anything like that. She saw something, something to do with my future." He gulped slowly. "And whatever it was, it was bad. Really, really bad."

He tossed and turned the entire night, unable to sleep a wink over what happened at the carnival. Deciding he needed some answers, he went back down there the next day, practically charging into the fortune-telling tent and through the tattered curtain. "Look, I know we got off to a bad start, but I need to know–"

Peeta stopped dead in his tracks when he was greeted by an older woman with pink hair who was wearing globs of makeup. Her makeshift sign read _Madame Trinket_. "Well, hello there young man," she practically purred. "How can I help you?"

His brow furrowed as he asked, "Where's the girl who was here yesterday?"

"I heard she quit. You young people today," she waved her hand with a sigh. "No manners, no respect for the sanctity of work. I mean, she'll never build up a faithful clientele with that kind of attitude, will she? No matter. I can help you with whatever it is you seek. Shall we go with the palm or Tarot card reading?"

Peeta sat down in the chair, feeling queasy at what she might tell him. But he had to know. "Tarot card reading please."

He gave her the money, shuffled the deck, cut the deck, then listened to her bullshit her way through his reading. All of the information she gave him was pretty basic, and she seemed to be glancing at him every few minutes as though reading his body language for cues.

"Can we just skip to my future?"

"Now, now." She wagged her finger, showing off the long acrylic nail. "Patience is a virtue, my dear." He dug his hands into his jeans, his palms sweating profusely. When he felt like he was going to explode from anticipation, Madame Trinket finally said, "Oh, that's sweet."

Arching an eyebrow toward her, he wondered, "What is?"

"I see great love in your future."

"With who?"

She nodded her head as though answering some unspoken question. "Well, it's a bit vague. But I can see that she's a lovely girl, and you're going to be very happy."

When she smiled broadly at him, Peeta frowned. "That's it?"

The smile fell from her face, and she cleared her throat. "I don't always get a clear picture," Madame Trinket explained. "But… oh! It's coming in clearer now. A wedding and babies seem to be on your horizon… one child." She snuck a glance in his direction. He was still frowning. "Or two perhaps."

"That's _it?_ " he persisted.

"A very… successful career?" she offered hopefully.

"Is something awful going to happen to me? Do I… I don't know. Do I die? Do I lose my wife while she's in labor? Does my kid develop a fatal heart syndrome or something?"

Madame Trinket frowned. "Those are… very grim questions."

"Will you stop sugarcoating everything and just tell me the truth already!" He slammed his hand against the table.

"Well, I never!" she said indignantly. "I think it's best if you leave young man. The energy in here has been completely ruined."

"Fine. You're a fraud anyway."

As he stomped toward the exit, he heard her call, "And don't you think about returning to my tent!"

* * *

Peeta's eyes slowly fluttered open, adjusting to the light seeping in from the curtain on the window. He yawned as he stretched his arms, running a hand through his curls. Then he noticed the naked brunette sleeping beside him, and the ends of his mouth curved into a smile as the memories from the night prior came flooding back to him. Clove was in his English Lit class, and he'd had a crush on her since the semester started. There had been a lot of flirting between them, and last night, they'd run into each other at a frat party.

Apparently, she'd just been dumped by her boyfriend Cato, so she wanted to get drunk. Really, really drunk. They both did, as Peeta was stressed out by impending midterms and another argument with his mother about what he was doing with his life.

"What the hell kind of job are you going to get with an Art History degree?" she'd barked at him. "Your father and I kill ourselves to send you to a good school, and you're just wasting all of our money."

He and Clove had danced and made out for most of the night before she drug him back to the apartment she shared with her roommate Glimmer. Things obviously escalated from there. He softly nudged her with his shoulder, and when she finally peeled her eyes open, she grimaced at the light that was pouring in from the outside.

"Hangover?"

"I feel like death warmed over," she groaned.

Peeta was pretty drunk last night, but he was surprisingly hangover free this morning. "Should I make coffee or something?"

"No coffee maker," she mumbled.

"Well, it's a nice day. I can go out and get us some."

"That would be great. I'm just going to stay here and hate myself some more."

He chuckled. "Sounds like a plan. Do you mind if I hop in your shower for a minute?"

"No, feel free."

He threw on some clothes in case he encountered Glimmer along the way, shuffling down the hall into the bathroom. The shower was quick but invigorating, and he left Clove's apartment with a grin etched to his face. There was a coffee shop a few blocks away, and he entered through the doors, humming to himself. On the way out, a small, dark-haired girl practically ran into him.

"Sorry," she muttered in apology, her head bowed.

"It's okay. I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going either…" When he caught her eye, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut, all of the breath knocked right out of his lungs. "You!"

It was the fortuneteller from the carnival, the one who'd yelled and screamed at him to get out of her tent before up and quitting the next day. He'd spent a better portion of the last three years thinking about her and the way she'd acted, but he hadn't been able to find her anywhere. All he had was a last name, which he wasn't even sure was real anyway. She had, for all intents and purposes, disappeared.

But her reaction to him had been so genuinely angry (or frightened, he wasn't sure) that he couldn't stop obsessing over it. So much money had been spent on other psychics in the last few years, hoping one of them could tell him what was so awful about his future. But none of them could offer him any real answers. In fact, they all said the same thing. He was going to find love and be ridiculously happy. It didn't make sense. Nothing about it made any sense. And he knew he would never have a truly fulfilling life if he was scared of his own shadow all the time. Finally, he did what he should have done in the first place.

He forgot about her.

Until now. Until she was standing right before him with her mysterious gray eyes and her ebony hair plaited into a simple side braid. The moment she recognized him, she made a mad dash out the door.

"Hey, wait!" he called after her, pushing on the door with his shoulder. "Come back here!"

She ran as fast as she could, but she was a fairly short girl, and his larger strides made it easy to catch up to her. "Leave me alone!" she shouted over her shoulder.

"I just want to talk!" he pleaded.

She ducked into one of the nearby buildings, his mouth hanging open when he realized it was campus owned. He reached the top of the staircase, just catching a glimpse of her as she stuck a key into one of the apartment doors.

 _Wait a minute, does she go to school here?_ he wondered.

Two years at this school, and he'd never seen her. Not once. Because he definitely would have remembered. He stood in front of the apartment door she had slipped into, both of his hands full of coffee. Finally, he put them down beside him and knocked. There was no answer, so he knocked again, this time with more urgency.

"I know you're in there. I saw you go in," he said to the door.

After knocking for the third time, the door opened slightly, and a pretty blonde popped her head out. She eyed him carefully before asking, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry to disturb you like this. But I need to speak with your roommate."

"I'm sorry," she chirped. "Katniss is busy right now."

"Katniss? Who's– _oh_." He perked up when he realized he finally had a name for this girl. Katniss. It suited her for some reason, not that he knew her particularly well.

"Tell Katniss that she can have her roommate play interference all she wants, but I'm not leaving until I talk to her."

Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you again?"

Realizing how he must look, he said, "Sorry, my name is Peeta. Peeta Mellark."

"Hi Peeta," she said carefully. "I'm Madge. Madge _Undersee_ ," she emphasized.

"As in…?"

"Mayor Undersee? Yep, I'm his daughter. And Katniss is my best friend."

Peeta sighed, taking the hint. "I'm not looking for any trouble, I swear. I go to school here, and I just… it's important that I talk to her, that's all."

"I don't know what to tell you, Peeta. She's busy. Also, I really don't appreciate you banging on our door like some crazed lunatic. Neither would my father."

"Two minutes, that's all I need. Tell Katniss I'll leave her alone forever if she just gives me two minutes of her time." Madge looked at him warily. " _Please_. I promise I'm not a lunatic."

"Hold on," she said as she closed the door. Peeta held his breath the entire time she was gone, but when she popped her head back out, she said, "She doesn't want to see you. Sorry. But it was nice meeting you, Peeta."

He opened his mouth to object, but all he got was a door in his face. Cursing under his breath, he practically stomped to the end of the hallway before he realized he forgot the coffee. Picking up the cups, he made his way back to Clove's apartment. That night, he sat at his laptop trying to do homework, but his mind just wouldn't focus. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and he pulled up Facebook.

He very carefully typed the name Katniss Everdeen into the search bar. A picture of her came into view, making his breath hitch in his throat. Damn, she was beautiful. Frustrating as all get out, but beautiful nonetheless. Although her profile confirmed that she did indeed attend this school, most other information was private. Then he typed Madge Undersee into the search bar. Thankfully, she had a public profile. His eyes began scanning her page for clues.

 _In a relationship with Gale Hawthorne._

Well, he had no idea who Gale Hawthorne was, so that didn't exactly help. He looked through her pictures, and although many of them featured Katniss, none of them really gave him a clue about her schedule. Finally, he zeroed in on a status update from several weeks ago.

 _Writing a paper for my Comparative Science class and watching Big Bang Theory reruns. Typical Monday night._

Peeta immediately looked up all the political science classes at his school. There was one that met on Tuesdays and Thursdays with Professor Coin. Hopefully, Katniss liked politics as much as her best friend did.

The next day, Peeta stood outside Professor Coin's class watching as all of her students filed out. Madge was busy chatting with some guy that looked like her boyfriend, so she didn't notice him standing there. Nobody filed out after them, and he was feeling defeated once again until he heard her voice. Sticking his head in the door, he saw her talking with the professor, her hair in a simple braid. His heart started strumming, an imaginary hand plucking the cords inside his chest, and he straightened out his shirt before fussing with his hair.

Katniss strolled out of the classroom leisurely, her face buried in a book. She didn't even notice him walking beside her until he finally cleared his throat. Her eyes bulged when she saw him standing there. "What the hell?" she scowled. "Are you stalking me now?"

"You owe me an explanation."

"I don't owe you anything. Get away from me."

"Am I going to die? Is that it?"

She stopped dead in her tracks. When she turned on her heel, she was looking at him with curiosity. "Who said anything about you dying?"

"Then is it one of my brothers or… or my parents? Something is going to happen to one of them?"

"No," she swallowed slowly. "I didn't see anything bad happening to you or your family members. It's not that."

He threw his arms in the air with agitation. "Then what is it? Why are you so afraid of me?"

"I'm not afraid of you." She looked to the side as though contemplating saying something else. But then the scowl returned to her face. "Just leave me alone, Peeta. _Please_. I'm asking nicely. Leave me alone."

When she walked away from him, his body deflated like a balloon that'd just been popped. Maybe she wasn't afraid of him, but she clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Now that he knew he and his family were safe, he decided he was going to forget about Katniss Everdeen once and for all.

Three weeks later, he ran into her at a frat party. She just rolled her eyes and dragged Madge out the door with her. A month after that, it was the library. Then it was the campus convenience store. He honestly wasn't trying to follow her, but she kept showing up wherever he went.

"Dude," Finnick told him. "There's so many other fish in the sea. Why are you bugging about psychic girl?"

"I'm not bugging," he defended. "But I keep running into her, and it's like she hates me or something. Like I personally _ruined_ her life. I don't get it." He shook his head as he took a sip of his beer. "What did I ever do to her?"

"Nothing, man. I told you. That chick is crazy." Throwing back his own sip of beer, he asked, "Hey, whatever happened to that girl you were fucking? She was hot."

"Clove? She got back with her boyfriend." He shrugged, not really caring. She turned out to be kind of annoying anyway.

"That bites." After a pause, Finnick offered, "I've got an idea. Maybe we can send Johanna in to infiltrate the base."

"What are you talking about?"

"She could pretend to be friends with her and then find out what she's hiding."

Peeta quirked an eyebrow at him; it wasn't the worst idea he ever heard. But a couple weeks later, Johanna came back with, "I got nothing. She's not half bad, though."

When he walked into his Cultural Anthropology class the following semester, he was no closer to figuring out Katniss Everdeen than he had been before. And that's when she took a seat right next to him.

"You've gotta be kidding me," he said under his breath.

"Do you see any other open seats?" she asked him, her voice dripping with attitude. He looked around. She was right; they were all full. "Believe me, I almost walked out."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I'm thrilled to see you either. You and that damn scowl." She just scowled some more at his remark. "I get it. You hate me. But maybe you could turn it down a notch? At least so I can get through this class."

She paused at his words, uncertainty in her eyes. "You think I hate you?"

"Well, don't you?"

She bit her lip. "No."

He frowned, feeling confused. But before he could open his mouth, the professor walked in, and he turned his attention to the front of the classroom. That didn't stop him from sneaking glances at her all throughout class, though.

A week later, there was a knock on his apartment door. "I got it!" Finnick called from down the hall. Peeta returned to the sketch he was working on.

"Hey."

He craned his neck when the female voice came from his bedroom doorway, but when he realized Katniss was standing at the threshold, he dropped his paper and practically jumped up from his bed.

"What–what are you doing here?" he stuttered, instinctively smoothing out his shirt.

"I don't hate you," Katniss said quietly, playing with her braid. She wasn't scowling for the first time in forever it seemed; he almost forgot how attractive she could be with a pleasant expression on her face.

"Okay? You told me that already."

"Well, I just wanted to make sure." There was a loaded silence between them, neither knowing what to say. Finally, she looked at the ground, noticing what he was working on. Picking it up, she asked, "Did you draw this?"

It was a close up of a woman whose face had been stripped bare, as naked as the day she was born. Stress lines and wrinkles stretched across her skin, her dark eyes swollen with worry and exhaustion. Although conventionally attractive, there was a heaviness that draped across her features, suggesting that the burdens of life had worn her down considerably, aging her much more quickly than she would have otherwise.

With a few strokes of his pencil, Peeta had managed to capture something that was both achingly gorgeous but hauntingly melancholic at the same time. There was an entire story in this woman's eyes, and Katniss found herself wanting to know so much more about her life: her hopes, her dreams, her struggles, her victories.

"Yeah, I… yeah," Peeta confirmed, placing his pencil down. "For one of my classes."

"Wow," she said with genuine appreciation. "It's really good. You have a lot of talent."

A blush crept into his cheeks as she handed it back to him. "Thanks." He placed the sketch onto his desk before scratching at his neck nervously.

Katniss sighed after a moment. "I'm sorry I've been so…" Her hands floundered in front of her, searching for what she wanted to say. "Anyway, it's not you. It's me. I'm the problem." Then she tucked her arms across her chest.

"I'm sorry if I did or said something to upset you."

"You didn't."

"I'm sorry if I do or say something to upset you in the future."

"You don't."

Peeta nodded slowly. Words always seemed to fail him in Katniss' presence. When the silence continued to drag on for what seemed like an eternity, he pointed at his desk. "I should probably get back to what I was doing."

Katniss took a deep breath, shutting his door with her elbow. "Do you want to have sex?"

He almost choked on his spit. " _What_?" Surely, he imagined her saying that. Or maybe he was just dreaming.

When she noticed him pinching himself, Katniss released the breath she was holding. Then, punctuating each word clearly, she said, "You heard me correctly." She sauntered over to him, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt. "Do you want to?"

Peeta's eyes darted around the room, needing to focus on something other than her proximity. "Did Finnick put you up to this?"

She gave him a quick shove, and he was so caught off guard that he landed on his bed with a soft thud. "Who's Finnick?"

"My, um, my roommate–"

When she climbed into his lap, he inhaled sharply.

"Oh, no. I've never met him before," she told him. Then she ground into him slowly, a smile tugging at her lips when he whimpered in the back of his throat.

"Was–was it Johanna then?" His words came out as a shaky gasp. He still couldn't believe this was actually happening; it had to be a prank of some sort.

Katniss' eyes narrowed at his question, and she stopped moving. "Johanna Mason? You know her?"

"Um…"

His guilty expression gave him away immediately, even as he avoided looking at her again. She studied him for a moment, noting that his hands were clutching his bedspread tightly, his knuckles turning white. Deciding it didn't matter, she shrugged and rocked against him more.

"It's okay. You can touch me," she breathed against his ear.

He was afraid to touch her; she might evaporate into thin air if he did. But his body was already betraying him, reacting to her sweet torture. Her gray eyes darkened until they were as black as her hair, and he lost himself momentarily in the scent of her perfume, something vaguely floral that reminded him of jasmine. With the continuous beckoning of her hips, his mind and body were at odds, trying to reconcile what was happening. But even as he strained and thickened beneath her, feeling all self-control slip away, he knew she could sense his anxiety.

"Why do you look so scared? You've done this before, haven't you?"

"Yeah–yes," he bobbed his head quickly. Though never with a girl as alluring or intriguing as Katniss, and certainly not with one he had all but written off due to her total and complete lack of interest. At least, that was the assumption he was under. But she'd thrown him a few curve balls recently, and this one in particular seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Then relax," she purred, uncoiling his fingers from the bedspread before placing his hands on her. "I promise I don't bite…" Her tongue laved the underside of his chin, her lips like crushed velvet as she brushed them against the stubble growing there.

She left lingering, wet kisses along the column of his throat, and he felt his fingertips dig into her hip bones, a sigh emanating from deep in his chest. When she guided his hands to her breasts, she anchored them there with her own. They were small and perky beneath his palms, but he could feel how soft they were even through her clothes. He gave them a gentle squeeze, and she moaned in approval, a sound that was honey to his ears.

His confidence bloomed as she threw her arms around his neck, rubbing against his erection more fervently. Peeta watched her moisten her lips, her mouth so close to his own but not yet touching it. And suddenly, all he could think about was how she tasted. His hands skated up her body until he was cupping her face, and he leaned into her further, their breath intermingling in the tiny sliver of space that separated them. Katniss stared into his eyes, hesitating briefly, but then she closed the distance between them, leaving a gentle kiss upon his lips.

She tried to pull away, but Peeta wanted more, holding her firmly in place. As he increased the pressure of his mouth against hers, he angled his face for more traction, urging her lips apart. His tongue swiped her bottom lip, catching the taste of something fruity and feminine, before softly caressing her own. She tasted even better than she smelled, his senses on high alert as their mouths became fully intertwined. Her fingers tugged at his curls as he licked behind her teeth and familiarized himself with the cavern of her mouth, reaching into every single crevice as though it were the place where all her secrets remained hidden. And he could uncover them all if he just remained thorough in his investigation.

Katniss broke away again, searching for air. Her lips were puffy, as red and ripe as an apple, and he brushed his thumb against them before she sucked it into her mouth. Peeta's eyes almost rolled into his head as she teased her tongue around his finger, and his cock strained harder against his jeans. It was downright painful, and he knew she could feel how badly he wanted her. When she released it, he practically attacked her mouth again, prying it apart. Then zealous tongues, teeth, and lips tangled together with passion, mirroring the hands of their owners as they searched for something to grasp onto.

She climbed off his lap without warning, pulling her hair tie out. Unraveling her braid with her fingers, she shook her hair loose and then stripped bare in front of him. She made no grand show of it, simply tossed her clothes to the ground like she couldn't be bothered with them anymore. Peeta didn't even have time to prepare for what he was about to witness, Katniss Everdeen in all of her naked glory. All he could do was blink and gape at her stupidly, his eyes blazing a trail from her steely gaze all the way down to her feet.

Her normally olive complexion had a reddish hue to it, as she was slightly flushed. Her small but perky breasts stood at full attention, her cinnamon colored nipples taut with desire; he wanted nothing more in that moment than to put his mouth on them. A thatch of dark curls glistened between her thighs, letting him know just how badly she wanted him, too. God, she was beautiful.

When Katniss noticed his stare, she asked, "Like what you see?"

His eyes snapped back to hers immediately, his mouth feeling like it was full of cotton.

"Yes."

She nodded. "Now you."

"Take off my clothes?" he asked before cringing at himself. Of course that's what she wanted him to do. They weren't about to make cupcakes here. Before she could answer, he stood from his bed, flipping the buttons on his shirt open and tossing the whole thing off his frame. Then he tugged at his belt buckle, throwing it on the floor in frustration when his fingers seemed to forget how to work. He practically sighed in relief when he pushed his jeans and boxers down his hips, allowing his erection to spring free at last.

As he stood before her feeling completely exposed, Katniss walked up to him slowly, her eyes drinking him in. He could feel the heat reflecting off of her, but she didn't touch him yet, simply perused his body with her eyes. Then her fingers trickled down his chest, the contact making him dizzy with anticipation. "What sports do you play?"

"I, um–" he stammered, hardly able to concentrate on anything but the journey her fingers were taking. "I was on the wrestling team in high school."

"Well," she said appreciatively, tracing the muscles of his abdomen. "You definitely have a wrestler's build."

"And now I just–"

Peeta was pretty sure his brain malfunctioned when he felt her wrap her hand around his girth. She caressed the head of his cock, and his words became strangled in his throat. He didn't think he could produce any more if he tried.

"This is very nice, too," she added. He made some kind of squeaking noise in response, and she smiled at him before pulling her hand away.

There was so much naked skin in front of him that his palms were beginning to itch; he almost didn't know where to start. Licking his lips, Peeta breathed, "Can I?"

Katniss nodded as he brought his right hand to her breast, cupping the mound. The pad of his thumb teased her nipple, and her body seemed to melt against him like warm butter. So he repeated the action with his other hand, giving both of her breasts the attention they sought. His mouth left a trail of kisses from her jaw to her cleavage, and she mewled softly as his tongue stimulated the sensitive skin. When his lips created a gentle suction around her left nipple, she brought his hand down to her folds.

His fingers soaked in her arousal, and he groaned at the feeling of how wet she was. It made him want to please her even more, alternating between both breasts as he eagerly nipped and licked. Katniss finally stepped away from him, climbing into his bed. As she settled comfortably against his pillow, she curled a finger toward herself. Peeta wasted no time, scrambling on top of her. Their mouths found each other once more, their lips moving in unison like they'd been kissing one another their whole lives. They hadn't, of course, but the familiarity of her lips somehow seemed to make as much sense as everything else that was happening in that moment.

"Now," Katniss exhaled against him in a hoarse whisper. "Do it now."

Peeta fumbled with the drawer on his bed stand, anxiously reaching for a condom. But as soon as he found one, Katniss grabbed his forearm to stop him. He searched her eyes with confusion, but she just shook her head, grabbing the foil wrapper and putting it back in the drawer.

"We won't be needing that," she assured him. "I'm all set."

His face went slack with shock, his pupils dilating fully. "Oh."

"I trust you," she murmured, trailing her index finger over his mouth and down his chest. "Besides, it feels so much better without one, doesn't it?"

He nodded dumbly, licking his lips in haste as he tried to process the idea of being inside her without it. She wrapped her ankles around his lower back, urging him closer, and he felt his limbs shaking with excitement and nerves as he settled over her naked body again. She was so soft, draped around him like a blanket of down feathers. But this blanket came with a beating heart and curves, delectable curves that pierced his skin and made the throb between his legs that much more intense. He felt trapped by her eyes, sinking into a black abyss, until her hand slipped between their bodies and enveloped his shaft, jerking him back into the present.

Katniss guided him inside of her slowly, and he momentarily forgot how to breathe when he became encased by her warm, wet walls. The smell of her intoxicated his nostrils, and the soft whimper that escaped her throat sent a tremor up his spine. The assault on his senses was so overwhelming, he paused about halfway in, fearing he would lose it completely if he moved another inch. Peeta pressed his palms into the mattress harder, as though the pressure he was exerting would help him calm down and focus. He wasn't ready for it to end so quickly, and he could tell by the expression on her face that she was overwhelmed as well.

"You feel so good," he croaked, as if he owed her some sort of explanation. "I don't want to…"

"I know," she gasped, saving him the embarrassment of finishing that sentence. "Just go slow."

There was a kindness and understanding in her eyes that helped put him at ease, and he swallowed thickly before he started moving again, filling her completely. It was an indescribable feeling being inside her without a condom, and he honestly couldn't remember the last time it happened with a girl, if ever. Most of them worried about getting STDs or becoming pregnant, and while he'd had his share of flings over the last few years, he'd never been in a committed relationship.

But with Katniss, everything was so different. He could feel her stretching a bit to accommodate him, which made sense since she was such a small girl. But she didn't flinch or react with any kind of discomfort, just emitted these sexy, breathless pants of satisfaction that made his stomach coil into knots. Peeta moved at a deliberate pace, letting her match his rhythm. The friction of their bare skin sliding together caused a slow simmer in his blood; she was so snug and vivid all around him, his brain could hardly process the pleasure.

"Peeta," Katniss sighed beneath him. Hearing his name roll off her tongue, thick with contentment, made every part of him ache even more. And he knew the burning in his lungs wasn't just caused by the lack of oxygen he was getting.

"You're so gorgeous," he heaved, determined to keep his eyes open so that he could fully enjoy the view.

There was a sheen of sweat covering her flesh, causing strands of her silken hair to stick to her face and shoulders, the rest cascading across his pillow like spilled coffee. He couldn't stop staring at the swell of her breasts, watching them jiggle softly with the motion of his thrusts, and when he reached the spots inside of her that elicited a louder response, he honestly felt like he was going to combust into flames.

Her hands grasped onto his shoulders firmly when the speed and force of his strokes intensified, and he could feel her pulse vibrating into his flesh, as though it were jacked up on cocaine. Maybe it was; maybe every inch of her skin was lined with it, and that's why he felt as high as the ceiling, reaching further and further heights with every rotation of his hips.

He didn't think he could hold out for much longer, as much he wanted this feeling to last. But there was a familiar tightening in his balls. And it seemed as though every ounce of fluid in his body had been sucked dry and forced into his cock, the pressure building and building.

"Katniss… _oh, shit_. I think I'm gonna–" he choked out, sweat dripping down his chest and arms. He wasn't sure if she was close yet, but he knew he was about to detonate.

"It's okay," she encouraged, though he could barely hear anything over the roar of his own heartbeat.

He felt her walls constrict, goading him on, and then he was bursting apart at the seams, unloading everything inside of her with a shudder and a groan, the impact reverberating throughout his entire system. He buried his face into her neck as her legs locked tightly around him, keeping him in place. When he felt the last ripples of pleasure coursing through his body, and his cock stopped twitching inside of her, he pushed himself back up with his arms, afraid he might be crushing her.

But when he attempted to pull away, she said, "No, stay right here." As his hot, shaky breath fanned over her, he watched her fingers crawl toward the juncture between her thighs. Then three of her fingers settled on her swollen clitoris, flicking in rapid succession to create a quivering sensation.

Peeta's pupils practically absorbed his irises when he realized what was happening. Katniss' face twisted with bliss as she trapped her bottom lip with her teeth. Her expression and the sounds she was making were so damn hot, but watching her get herself off while he was still inside of her was the sexiest thing ever. He wasn't even sure where to focus his attention, his eyes bouncing back and forth quickly.

"Yes… _yes_ ," she cried, her back arching off the bed. And then he felt her contracting around him again, the sensation mind-numbingly good even though he'd started to soften already. Her eyes screwed tightly together as her mellifluous voice rose to a crescendo. Watching her come undone all around him left him in a daze, trying to piece together his emotions.

When she finally went still, and her eyes opened slowly, Peeta was staring at her with a look of astonishment. She smiled softly, her chest still rising and falling swiftly.

"Thanks," she murmured. "It feels better with something inside of me. And you're bigger than my fingers."

He blushed at her comment, despite the fact that it made him happy. "Um, you're welcome… That was, uh… well, it was fucking amazing." There was really no other way to put it. "But should I…?" He indicated whether or not she wanted him to get off of her now.

Katniss just shook her head, bringing his lips down to hers for another kiss. "No, you're good right where you are."

When Peeta awoke several hours later, he didn't even remember falling asleep. But his room was much darker, and his arms were significantly less full. He blinked several times, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. Katniss was no longer in his room. He noticed the wet spot on his sheets, confirming the fact that he did indeed have sex with her, and it wasn't just a dream. But it was still so strange for his brain to fathom, how she could go from avoiding him at all costs to wanting to be as intimate as possible.

Finnick was right; this girl was hot and cold to the extreme.

He cleaned himself up before putting on his clothes. Katniss didn't leave a number or anything for him to call, but he wanted to make sure she got home alright at least. Peeta tiptoed past Finnick's bedroom; he was sure he heard them earlier. But he really wasn't in the mood for dealing with his friend's questions at the moment. Grabbing his keys, he reached for the front door handle.

"I know you had sex with psychic girl!" Finnick called from his room. "Don't think I'm letting you off the hook so easy. I want to hear all about it when you get back from wherever it is you're going. Probably to have more sex."

Peeta shook his head and stepped out the door. Good old predictable Finnick. When he knocked on Katniss' apartment door, Madge once again opened it. She saw him standing there with his hands stuffed in his jeans, and she retorted, "What do you want?"

"I was wondering if I could talk to Katniss."

"She left," Madge said flatly.

"Okay, well, do you know when she's coming back?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"I wanted to make sure she got home okay," he said sheepishly, realizing he was spreading her business around. But hell, they were best friends. Surely, Katniss told her already.

Madge regarded him for a moment. Then the tension eased out of her shoulders. "She got home okay. But I'll be sure to let her know you dropped by."

Peeta smiled broadly at her. "Thanks."

Katniss didn't get in contact with him that night, and Finnick was driving him up a wall with all his questions, so he stopped over at her place again in the morning, hoping to catch her before she went to class. He was pleasantly surprised when she opened the door.

"Hey, you're still here. That's good to know," he joked. She didn't laugh, so he continued, "Anyway, I came over last night. I don't know if Madge told you."

"She did. I, uh, I got back kind of late, and I didn't have your number, so…"

"Right," he bobbed his head. "I didn't have yours either."

"Right."

"So…"

"Do you want to come in?"

He lilted an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, Madge is gone already, and I have some time before I have to leave for class."

"Okay," he smiled. "Cool." He stepped into her apartment, his eyes soaking in the simple decor. "I like the way you've decorated."

She waved her hand in dismissal as she shut the door. "It's mostly Madge's doing."

"Oh, well, it's still nice," he shrugged. Clearing his throat, he added, "So listen, about what happened…" Peeta looked from the wall back at her, having every intention of discussing her strange and sudden turnabout. But his breath got stuck in his throat when he saw her toss her shirt to the ground, and his mind went absolutely blank when she shimmied her jeans off of her hips. Katniss let him take a good hard look at her naked body, enjoying his surprised expression. Then she began walking in the direction of her bedroom, his eyes glued to her ass as she sashayed away.

"You coming?" she called over her shoulder.

There wasn't a whole lot of discussion after that.

Katniss was insatiable, a woman possessed. He never met a girl who wanted to be fucked so often or in so many different positions. It kind of wore him out after a while, not that he was complaining exactly. Finnick begged him to teach him all his secrets, and he almost couldn't help but laugh with incredulity.

He honestly didn't know what he was doing so right or so differently, but his life was beginning to remind him of one of those Axe body spray commercials. The girls (or, in this case, girl) just wouldn't or couldn't stay off of him. And though he realized that was most men's fantasy, he was beginning to think she was just using him. Whenever he tried to have a conversation with her, she'd distract him with her mouth or her hands, and he'd suddenly forget what he had wanted to say in the first place. Until the next time he tried to initiate conversation with her, and she'd do it all over again.

She never answered his phone calls, only texted him in response. And usually her reply had something to do with the next time they were having sex. When he tried to talk to her in class, she mostly tuned him out, pretending like she had to pay close attention to what the professor was saying.

"Finnick, can I ask you a question?" Peeta said one day.

"Shoot."

"How do you get a girl to stop wanting to have sex with you?"

Finnick blinked. Then he looked out the window. "The world doesn't appear to be ending."

Peeta groaned. "I'm serious, man."

It wasn't that he didn't like having sex with Katniss; God, it wasn't that at all. He understood the appeal of no strings attached sex. And he realized his question probably seemed a bit crazy coming from a 20-year-old male. But still, he wanted her to like him for reasons that didn't involve how often or hard he could make her come. They had been having sex for weeks, and he didn't know the first thing about Katniss Everdeen. Hell, he didn't even know what she was planning to do after school.

"If only that were my problem," Finnick said dramatically.

"I thought you were sleeping with Johanna."

Finnick shrugged. "We decided we're better as friends. Besides, there's this other girl I'm into… Annie. Annie Cresta." He perked up at the mention of her name. "Still trying to convince her to go out with me. It's a work in progress."

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks. Anyway, back to you. Enlighten me about this too much sex predicament you're having."

"I know you think I'm crazy, but she never wants to do anything else. And she acts really weird."

"So not much of a change then."

"I know she's always been weird," Peeta sighed. "I don't know. I guess I just…"

"Like her?" Finnick offered.

"Yeah, maybe." He ran a hand through his curls in frustration.

"Also not much of a change." Peeta furrowed his brow, and Finnick added, "You've been stuck on her for years. Obviously you've liked her from the start."

"Well, how do I know if there's the possibility of something more there? If she likes me for any reason other than the sex."

"Maybe you should ask her," Finnick pointed out.

Peeta frowned. "I've tried."

"Try harder."

The next day Peeta woke up with the resolve to confront Katniss about whatever the hell it was they were doing. But she wasn't in class. And she didn't answer his texts. Thinking she might be sick, he made her some soup and brought it over to her apartment. At least the food could act like a buffer of some sort if she tried to jump on him. But when Madge opened the door, she looked somewhat upset.

"Is Katniss okay?" Peeta wondered. "I made soup."

"She left," Madge said bitterly. He wondered if they had a fight of some sort.

"Do you know where she went?"

"No," she said, moving to shut the door in his face.

But he stopped it with his free hand. "Are you angry at me for some reason? What did I do?"

He didn't know Madge that well, but she had been friendly to him in recent weeks.

"Katniss left," Madge repeated.

"Okay?"

Madge sighed irritably. "She left, Peeta. Not just our apartment but school. She left school."

Peeta stared at her with perplexity. "Where did she go?"

"She didn't tell me. But all of her stuff is gone, and she left a note. She's not coming back." He had no idea how to process that information. His brain was in denial as his mouth gaped open in shock. "Katniss is gone for good."

* * *

"3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!"

A collective roar of celebration echoed throughout the spacious apartment. _Auld Lang Syne_ droned on in the background of a large, flat screen TV amidst a sea of champagne glasses raised high in the air and sloppy, drunken kisses exchanged between lovers, friends, and strangers.

Peeta took a sip of his champagne, standing in an unoccupied corner of the unfamiliar room as his eyes flitted over the crowd before him, soaking in their antics. Finnick and his girlfriend Annie were practically sucking face, oblivious to the rest of the party goers around them. Johanna was dancing with a guy she had introduced to him earlier, Haymitch something or other. They had met at an AA meeting a little while back and hit it off, despite the fact that he had quite a few years on her. Peeta wasn't so sure it was a good idea for two recovering alcoholics to be in the presence of so much alcohol, but they had so far managed to avoid all of the champagne, lost in their own little bubble.

This party was being thrown by a friend of Johanna's, a guy named Blight. He remembered that Blight had been in a few of his classes back when they were all in school together, but he didn't know him that well beyond a few casual interactions. He didn't exactly have any other plans for the evening, though, so when Johanna invited him to tag along with her and the rest of the crew, he shrugged and said why not. It was better than sitting at home alone after all, watching the ball drop as he plied himself with food and alcohol.

It did sting a little bit, however, watching all of his friends find happiness with their self-proclaimed better halves when he himself seemed to be stuck in a never ending cycle of bachelorhood. In the five years since he'd graduated from college, he'd dated various women. But none of them ever worked out in the long run. In all honesty, that was probably his own fault more than anybody else's. All those psychics he'd seen years ago had filled his head with a bunch of nonsense, the idea that he was going to find the love of his life and be so enamored with her that pretty much nothing else was going to matter.

None of these girls could live up to the fantasy he'd conjured in his mind. Sure, they were nice enough, and sure, they were pretty enough. Most of them had good, stable jobs, and the sex was pretty decent across the board. But when it came down to it, they were actually pretty bland. Each girl morphed into the next one until they all became a giant blur in his mind. He was bored with the whole dating game. He wanted somebody who was different, somebody who challenged him, somebody who excited him in ways he couldn't even explain. And the only girl who'd ever really made him feel that way had run away from him (twice) and never looked back.

Sighing to himself quietly, he made his way back over to the bar. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed a tall, dark-haired guy who looked vaguely familiar to him. For some reason, he felt like he knew him, even though he wasn't sure if he did. Maybe he just had one of those faces that made a person think he knew somebody even if he didn't. But a moment later, a pretty blonde woman wrapped herself around his waist, and a lightbulb went off inside his head.

 _In a relationship with Gale Hawthorne._

Gale Hawthorne, that's who the familiar dark-haired guy was. They hadn't actually spoken to each other before, though he did see him in passing a few times when Katniss had dragged him down the hall into her bedroom. And the blonde that was currently latched onto him was none other than Madge Undersee. He hadn't seen her since they left school, but she looked almost exactly the same.

He was just about to go up and greet them when he heard a voice that made him stop dead in his tracks.

"I should've known you would be at this party."

Peeta spun on his heel quickly, his stomach practically leaping into his throat when his gaze fell upon a pair of gray eyes that were at once so familiar and yet so foreign to him. They were brooding rain clouds, and he felt compelled to walk right into the center of the storm, as tumultuous as it might be.

"Peeta Mellark," she said, her tone that of quiet resignation.

"Katniss Everdeen," he breathed when he finally got his tongue to cooperate. The side braid she often wore in college was gone, her raven hair flowing like the sea over her small frame. As were the plain cotton t-shirts and fitted jeans she often wore. Tonight, she was in a silver dress that brought out the color in her eyes even more, shimmering beneath the lights every time she moved. The dress was held up by spaghetti straps and stopped several inches above her knee, showing off more skin than he ever remembered her revealing in public. Skin that was so supple and soft, skin that he had spent hours cherishing with his mouth.

She was exquisite, as lovely as he remembered, and probably even more so. He tried to work through the clutter of thoughts that fought for dominance in his mind. There were so many things he had wanted to say to her over the last six years, but none of those things were coming to him now. "What…" he licked his lips. "What are you doing here? Last I heard, you were backpacking across Europe."

That was the only bit of information Johanna had managed to dig up for him over the years, and although part of him actually contemplated tracking her down, he'd finally convinced himself how desperate and foolish that would make him look. Katniss had run away from him on multiple occasions, and she obviously did not feel the same way toward him that he felt toward her. He had to move on with his life, once and for all. It couldn't possibly be healthy to be stuck on a girl who just used him as she saw fit.

"I was," she nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "But my mom became very ill in the last few months, and my sister begged me to come home." She shrugged, obviously trying to deflect her sorrow. "As far as the party goes, well, I didn't have any other plans. And Gale mentioned that this guy he knew from school was throwing a New Year's get-together, and I should come. So, here I am." Pointing toward him, she added, "And here you are, obviously."

"I don't know Blight that well. He was in some of my classes, but mostly he's a friend of Johanna's." He set down his champagne glass on a nearby coffee table and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry about your mother. Is she doing any better?"

"No, she passed," Katniss said softly.

He couldn't quite read the expression on her face, but he offered, "My sincere condolences. I don't have a particularly great relationship with my mother; we don't often see eye-to-eye on many things. But I can only imagine how difficult it must be to lose a parent. And I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

She observed him quietly for a moment, as though she was trying to decide whether she could trust him with her feelings. "Thank you for saying that. I didn't really have a great relationship with my mother either. Part of it was her doing, but part of it was my fault, too. I never really forgave her for a lot of things. I guess I'm just too stubborn for my own good."

"You stubborn? I never would have guessed," Peeta teased gently.

He was sure his joke was going to elicit one of her trademark scowls, so he was surprised when she actually released a subdued laugh. "I know, but I'm a Taurus. That's what we're known for, isn't it?"

"Ah, well. That explains a lot."

She smiled shyly at him, which made his insides feel something like putty, but the humor in her eyes eventually faded. "My father died when I was a kid, and my mother didn't handle it very well. The grief was too much for her to bear on most days, and my sister and I were often left to tend to ourselves. We became very, very close as a result. Because we didn't have anyone else."

Peeta thought of his own brothers and the relationship he had with them. He could understand what that bond was like. "I didn't even know you had a sister. Is she younger or older?"

"Younger," she said, her eyes flashing with something he didn't quite understand, sadness or regret perhaps. He almost wanted to ask her about it, but he didn't feel like it was his place to pry. This conversation was the longest the two of them had ever had, and he'd probably learned more about her in the last five minutes than he had in the last nine years combined. Feeling like it would jinx everything, he decided to let it go. And she soon plastered a smile to her face anyway. "Her name is Prim, like primroses."

"That's a pretty name."

She nodded slowly, her thumb skating around the rim of her empty glass. "I was going to get a drink at the bar."

"Oh, right." He reached for his discarded champagne glass. "So was I."

The two of them ran into Gale and Madge, and they all exchanged pleasantries for a few moments, reminiscing about school. Finally, Madge dragged Gale onto the dance floor again, leaving Katniss and Peeta to themselves. Peeta opted for a beer this time, and Katniss got herself an apple martini. As he took a sip of his drink, he heard a loud raucous coming from the other end of the room, and he turned to see his friends laughing and cheering pretty loudly. He missed whatever it was that had riled them up so much, but he figured Katniss was only moments away from planning her great escape anyway. He should probably go before he ended up disappointed again.

"Well, it was nice seeing you after all this time, Katniss," he told her. "I hope you have a very happy New Year."

Her lips sloped into a frown briefly before she caught herself. Then she said, "Yeah, you too." When she didn't make any attempt to stop him, he nodded at her, ignored the sharp pang in his chest, and started walking away. He barely made it a few feet before he heard, "Wait, Peeta!"

Peeta turned again, almost slamming right into Katniss.

"Sorry," they said at the same time, and without thinking, Peeta put his hand on her shoulder to stabilize her. Her exposed flesh was hot to the touch, and he got lost in a trance until he noticed her staring at his hand out the corner of her eye. Realizing what he'd done, he pulled it away with another apology under his breath.

"It's okay," she assured him. Then she took a deep breath. "I, uh, I know your friends are here, and you probably want to get back to them. But I was just wondering…" She curled her finger around a lock of hair nervously. "Do you want to hang out and talk some more? I was kind of enjoying it."

His eyes widened in surprise. That was probably one of the last things he expected her to say.

"It's just that, well, I'm kind of the third wheel with my friends, and that can get awkward after a while. I don't know if you came here with anybody–"

"No," Peeta interrupted. "Just Finnick and his girlfriend Annie. Otherwise, I'm here by myself, too." And then for some reason, he added, "I'm single."

He cringed internally at his own eagerness. All this time, he'd feared appearing desperate. Desperate for any bit of attention or affection from Katniss Everdeen. Hell, desperate just to be near her again. Her gallivanting across Europe was actually a good excuse for him to let her go; his friends, family, and career were all here. He couldn't do something stupid like chase after a girl who didn't even want him. But all it took was one look from her, one look full of hope and so many other unspoken things, and he was a goner. Just like that. He would've done anything she asked of him in that moment.

She had no idea the effect she could have.

They settled on an empty couch in another room, which was far less crowded. But it wouldn't have mattered if people were hanging from the ceiling fans; at that point, they were only focused on each other.

"There are so many things I've wanted to ask you for years," Peeta admitted.

"Like what?" Katniss wondered as she took a sip of her martini.

He shrugged. "Where do I even start? I mean, all I really know about you at the moment is that you're stubborn and have a younger sister named Prim." Also, a voracious sexual appetite, but he decided to leave that part out for now. "What do you do now that your adventures in Europe are over? Hitting the carnival circuit again?"

She shook her head. "I haven't done anything like that since the summer I met you."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "That was just a temporary thing, a way to save up some money for college. But I can't see the future anymore anyway." He furrowed his brow, and she shrugged. "I don't know. One day, my ability just…disappeared. Almost as suddenly as it appeared in the first place."

"Does anybody else in your family have psychic abilities?"

"Apparently, my paternal grandmother had visions," she told him. "But they weren't anything like mine." As he nodded, she continued, "When I first came back here, I mostly just took care of my mom. But now that she's gone, I've been taking night classes to finish my degree. And I got a job at the hospital my sister works at, doing administration stuff. She's a nurse, though," she told him, her voice full of pride.

"That's awesome. And I think it's great that you've gone back to school. Do you have any idea what you want to do when you finish?"

"Okay, well don't laugh at me."

"When you start a sentence like that, I make no promises," he joked, and she nudged him with her elbow playfully.

"In high school, I was in a band." She twirled a piece of hair around her finger again.

"Like a marching band or a garage band?"

"A garage band, except more like a basement band because that's where we practiced."

Peeta chuckled. "Okay."

"I didn't really know what I wanted to do when we were in college. I think I was mostly biding my time, waiting for inspiration to hit. But I started taking this music theory class, and it reminded me of how much music has always been a part of my life. My fondest memories of my father include him singing to me when I was a child." She swallowed slowly, her eyes glossing over with emotion. "So I was thinking maybe I would become a music teacher or something. Instill that love of music in a whole new generation of kids."

"I like that idea," Peeta said softly, smiling at her.

"And what do you do?"

"I'm in the process of opening a small art gallery, actually," he told her.

"Really?" she perked up. "Will your own work be showcased there?"

"Some of it, yeah."

"That's so exciting. You'll have to bring me there sometime."

He bit his lip to prevent the smile he felt at her use of the future tense; he was sure it would engulf his entire face otherwise. Nodding, he instead said, "Okay, cool. I will."

"So what other burning questions have you wanted to ask me all these years?" she teased.

 _Why do you keep running away from me?_ his brain shouted. But as he tugged on his tie, all that came out was, "What's your favorite color?"

Katniss couldn't suppress the giggle that erupted from her throat. "That's the question that's been eating at you? What's my favorite color?"

He smiled sheepishly at her. "We're trying to build a friendship, right? Those are the type of things friends know about each other. Work with me here."

"Oh, well, in _that_ case," she smiled, her eyes glittering as brightly as her dress. "It's green. What's yours?"

"Orange. But not a bright orange," he insisted. "A bit more muted. More like… sunset."

He'd spent many hours watching the sun dip below the horizon, soft shades of orange layered across the sky like Mother Earth had been delicately holding onto the paint brush. It brought him a sense of calm and serenity, especially when other aspects of his life were not always so. Next to Katniss Everdeen herself, it was one of the most beautiful things his eyes had ever captured, and he'd tried to duplicate it many times with his own hands.

The two of them talked and laughed and drank long into the early morning hours, catching up on years of lost time. When mostly all of the other guests were gone, Peeta asked Katniss if she wanted to go for a walk. His own apartment wasn't too far away.

"Would you like to come in for coffee or something?" he offered when they arrived.

"Sure, I'd like that."

As they entered the apartment, she took off her coat and scarf, and he hung them in the closet. Then he did the same with his own. She wondered if she could use his bathroom. All the alcohol they'd been drinking had gone straight to her bladder. He showed her where she could find it before removing his navy blue blazer and tie, resting them atop the couch. Then he unbuttoned his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows.

When Katniss stepped back into the living room, she noticed Peeta's blazer and tie waiting for her, but he was nowhere to be found. Her gaze drifted over to the kitchen, where she found him rummaging through the refrigerator. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she watched him place a carton of eggs on his countertop.

"What are you doing?"

"Making us breakfast," he said, as though that fact were obvious. "It's the most important meal of the day, and most people skip it."

"Wow, you cook too?"

He shrugged as he searched through his cabinets for a skillet. "My parents own a bakery. It's kind of in my blood."

She laughed incredulously. "You're like every girl's dream, aren't you?"

"Not _every_ girl's apparently." He paused to look at her briefly before returning to the task at hand.

There was a tension-filled moment of silence before he heard her sigh. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you over the years." Looking back into her eyes, Peeta recognized the genuine guilt she felt. "I know it was really shitty of me, and I'm not sure what to say to make it any better, but–"

"Don't worry about it," he cut her off. "It's in the past."

Things had been going so well between them, and he was almost sorry he even brought it up. Because he didn't want to spend the new year trudging up their complicated past or opening old wounds. Eventually, they would have to have that conversation, and he knew that. But right now, all he wanted to do was enjoy a nice breakfast with her. Live in the present and focus on their future together, whatever that future might be.

"But it's not, obviously," she protested. "And I owe you an explanation. I just, I was scared and…" She licked her lips, searching for what she wanted to say.

Peeta placed his hands onto the countertop, leaning his weight into it. "You're here now, aren't you? You're letting me make you breakfast. That's a good start."

Katniss stood before him in her shiny silver dress; the heels that had given her some height earlier were left discarded by the door. All traces of makeup had been scrubbed from her face, allowing him to see all of her imperfections. But to Peeta, they weren't imperfections. They were details, rich, glorious details that made her a real person instead of a porcelain doll. And all he saw when he looked at her was the fresh-faced girl he knew back in college: she hadn't aged a bit, totally defying the toils of gravity and age. But still, somehow, she looked more vulnerable to him than ever. Her right foot rubbed nervously over the left as she soaked in his words and tried to accept them.

"I want to focus on today, right now. Because I'm sure all of that stuff will come up later, but I want to ring in the new year with the promise of tomorrow. Not the regret of yesterday."

She nodded slowly, but eventually she offered a smile that was so genuinely sweet, his heart felt recharged, as though he'd been given an electric shock to the system. They ate breakfast together as the sun rose into the sky, Eggs Benedict over biscuits, hash browns, bacon, and fresh coffee. And in the comfortable silence that lingered between them, Peeta found exactly what it was he'd been searching for all these years.

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever," he said softly, so softly he wasn't even sure if she'd heard him. But after a moment, she put her hand in his and squeezed gently, acknowledging that she'd heard him loud and clear.

They stayed connected in silence for a while, reveling in the quiet comfort of one another. But then Katniss slid her hand from his grasp, resting it on his knee. He watched with piqued interest, but he didn't dare utter a word. When her hand grazed his inner thigh, he felt every single muscle in his body tighten automatically, and he remembered how even the simplest of touches from her could set him off so easily.

Time, distance, and circumstance had driven them apart in recent years; they were more like strangers than lovers at this point. But when she gave him that all-too-familiar look, her eyes misting with desire, it all just seemed to melt away. Peeta granted her the permission she sought with a slight nod of his head, and she cupped him firmly through his jeans.

"Katniss," he sighed, the yearning in his voice reflecting that in her eyes. She didn't waste any time after that, stroking him a few more times through his jeans before freeing him from his confines. Spitting into her palm, she wrapped it around his length, gliding up and down with the exact pressure she knew he liked. He grew harder and thicker in her hand as she tugged on his flesh, focusing extra attention on that spot right beneath the head that drove him insane.

Peeta could hardly stand it anymore as he reached for her. "C'mere," he commanded with a husky voice. She crawled over his lap, straddling his waist.

Each of her legs was perched on the outside of his, and his hands immediately found the creamy expanse of her thighs. They rode up under her dress as his lips lightly skimmed her neck. Peeta sucked on her clavicle, and she moaned softly as his fingers found their intended destination. He could feel the moisture soaking through her underwear already, his thumbs rubbing her apex through the cotton rocked against him eagerly before slipping her spaghetti straps off her shoulders, allowing her breasts to spill out of her dress.

He took a moment to appreciate them, his capable hands massaging the mounds. They were still as firm but as soft as he remembered, her nipples stiffening under the attention of his fingers. But she was impatient for more.

"I want your mouth," she pleaded, and he was happy to oblige, loving how he could affect her in the same way she did him. She cooed softly as he pushed her breasts together, his mouth tantalizing one and then another. He could practically hear her skin humming as he delicately swirled his tongue around each nipple, teasing them with his teeth. Her fingers tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck, her breath hot in his ear. "Peeta, I need you," she rasped, shivering with lust.

And that's all he needed to hear. Because he needed her, too. More than anything.

He used his thumb to move her panties to the side, just enough to open her up to him. Katniss encircled his erection with her right hand, rubbing the tip of his cock against her folds. They both sighed at the contact, a searing current fizzling beneath his skin at the anticipation of being inside her again. It'd been years since they'd been intimate with one another, but Peeta hadn't forgotten a single second of what she could do to him, like there was an electric strobe light inside his chest, pulsing every time she was near him. He watched with reverence as her eyelashes kissed the tops of her cheeks, and her lips pursed slightly.

Then she slid down all around him, sheathing him with her warmth, and he remembered just how incredible she felt, how perfectly she fit him. He was the key to her lock, all of their jagged edges sliding together to open up a world of indescribable bliss. She keened softly as she rocked against him, and he grasped her hips with his hands, kneading her flesh like dough. Her hips began undulating at last, taking him again and again. When her underwear attempted to move back into its previous position, the lace trim teased his shaft. Peeta groaned at the added sensation, meeting each of her strokes with his own.

There was something highly erotic about having sex with Katniss while they were still clothed. Usually, Peeta would want to bask in the feel of her hot flesh against his. But after years of being apart, they were desperate for the connection; they couldn't even bother to remove those pesky clothing items. This was exactly how they wanted each other, raw and unfiltered. She slithered on top of him slowly at first, like a seductive snake. Then she altered her tempo and the intricate movement of her hips, trying to stimulate her clit.

Katniss gripped onto Peeta tightly, swiveling and bouncing with quiet urgency. He knew she was searching for release, that same release he'd been longing for for years. His hands guided her in her quest, pressing her down against his pelvic bone when she needed the friction and helping her ride him faster when she was starting to lose control. Her head fell back in ecstasy, her fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as lust-soaked whimpers and cries of pleasure erupted from her throat.

" _Oh God_ ," she wailed, and he knew she was dangling at the edge of her orgasm.

"Come for me," Peeta murmured, his mouth dipping into her cleavage yet again. As he sealed his wet lips around her nipple, he could feel the involuntary spasms of her walls. And then she was falling, fast and hard, trembling around him as her skin flushed with heat. She held onto him for dear life, a shooting star streaking across the sky, leaving brilliant beams of light in her wake as she crashed into his atmosphere.

He held her hips still as he penetrated her with a few powerful thrusts, and then he knew his release was imminent as well. His knees went weak as the pressure built in his groin, along with that familiar tingling sensation he'd come to know. A sense of numbness spread throughout every inch of his skin, and he felt the most indelible pleasure embedding itself into every particle of his being.

"Fuck, Katniss," he growled when it hit him, and he felt his seed spurt into her depths, hot and sticky as it coated her walls. They rode out the sensation for as long as they could, wrapped around each other as they gasped for breath.

Katniss went limp against Peeta, practically sinking in his arms, and he couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips as she hugged him close. When he heard her breathing normalize a bit, he nudged her softly, and she pulled back to look into his eyes. The storm clouds had vanished, reflecting friendlier skies, and he threaded his fingers through her hair as he brought her lips down to his own. This kiss wasn't full of the desperation that'd just wreaked havoc on their bodies. Rather, it was slow and languid as they sought to rediscover each other once again.

He could taste the coffee she drank on her breath, but beneath that was a flavor that he could only describe as uniquely Katniss. And he quickly found himself becoming addicted to that taste yet again.

"I've missed you," Peeta sighed into her lips.

She regarded his words carefully before easing off of his lap, letting her dress slip off her frame and fall to the floor in a small heap. She scooted her underwear off her hips and down her legs, her thighs stained with the evidence of both their releases. Peeta's breath hitched in his throat. It didn't matter how many times he saw her like this, he would never get over just how magnificent she was.

He led her over to the sink so she could clean up a bit. Then Katniss dragged him to his bedroom for a second round of fun.

"Peeta," she whispered later. "Do you believe in fate?"

He searched her gaze and was surprised to see the conflict hidden there, like she was tortured by the very idea.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Maybe." Moving a piece of hair out of her eyes, he continued, "I definitely believe that certain people come into your life for a reason. Everybody's purpose is different, and each person who crosses your path will teach you a different lesson about the world or yourself. Some of those lessons will be hard to swallow, and some of them will open your eyes and your mind in ways you never even fathomed. Not every one of those people will stay in your life, though. Some will cross your path momentarily, and others will anchor themselves to your side and stay there with you every single step of the way. Those people will find you no matter what obstacles life throws at you." He considered his own words for a moment. "I guess in a way I do believe in fate then."

He noticed her eyes were lined with unshed tears, and he frowned at her obvious distress. "Are you okay?"

She bobbed her head quickly, forcing a smile upon her lips. "Yeah, I'm just tired."

He knew she was hiding something, but he felt himself teetering at the edge of exhaustion. They would nap first, refueling their energy, and then he would get to the bottom of it. Peeta pulled her in closer to his body, reveling in how warm and soft she felt. The smell of sweat lingered on her skin, mixing with her own natural scent, and he inhaled deeply to capture it into his lungs as his eyelids drooped close.

"You were sent to me for a reason, Katniss," he whispered, his breath slowing to a crawl. "And I think I'm finally starting to figure out what that is…"

His words petered out as a shroud of blackness overtook him, and he settled into a peaceful state of unconsciousness. When he came to a bit later, Katniss' small frame was no longer swallowed in his embrace. The frown started in his brain first, and then the muscles in his face finally got the message, twitching sharply until his lips were slanted upside down. Peeta bolted upright, feeling disoriented and a bit dizzy at the sudden movement.

"Katniss?" he called out, hoping she was in the bathroom. But he didn't find her there, nor in the living room, nor in the kitchen. She wasn't anywhere in his apartment. He felt sick to his stomach as he realized that, once again, she'd run away.

 _Maybe she had a good reason_ , his brain tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe there was some kind of emergency. Things had developed so much between them over the last 12 hours; they were finally in a good place with one another. Surely, she wouldn't just disappear again.

He realized she'd given him her phone number earlier in the night, and he scrambled to grab his own cell phone. With shaky fingers, he dialed the numbers she'd written into the palm of his hand. Thankfully, it hadn't been smudged off completely. A piercing tone reached his eardrum as a female operator indicated that the phone number had been disconnected. His heart sank as he dialed the numbers once again, but all he got was the same monotone message from the operator.

There was no other number to call. And he had absolutely no idea where she lived. He briefly contemplated calling Johanna to see if maybe she had an address for Katniss, but as soon as the phone started ringing, he had an epiphany.

She did it again. She used him for sex. Maybe all those things she told him as they laughed and drank the night away were true, but she knew she needed to change her act if he was going to trust her again. Especially after the way she'd treated him in college. He fell for it completely, just like the shmuck he was. But it was all an act.

Katniss Everdeen didn't want to be his friend, and she certainly didn't want to be his girlfriend. She didn't have the same feelings for him that he did for her. She never did, and she never would, no matter how much he wanted it to be real. Katniss just wanted to bury herself inside of him and forget: the stresses of school, the loss of her psychic abilities, the death of her parents. Whatever it was that plagued her at any given moment, whatever it was that reminded her of the frailty of life, the fallible nature of the human spirit, and the idea that they all, each and every one of them, were pawns in a much bigger game, one that was beyond their control.

Peeta thought back to the first time he met Katniss Everdeen, how he had walked into her tent with such a big chip on his shoulder, refusing to believe that anyone could actually forecast his future. And then he remembered the card he'd asked her about, the one named The Fool. Funny how accurate that card ended up being in predicting his future, he thought bitterly. Because there was one thing Peeta Mellark knew with undeniable certainty now.

He was nothing but a fool.

* * *

"I'm asking nicely."

"You know I would do anything for you, Jo. I really would. But I just can't do this," Peeta told her. "Not if you insist on having her there."

"Okay, seriously? I've been biting my tongue over this stupid little feud between you and Katniss. Because first of all, it's none of my business, and secondly, I have too much other shit in my life to worry about," Johanna said into the receiver. "But don't you think it's time to stop holding onto that grudge? Whatever happened between the two of you, well, it's been like two years or something. And as your friend, I feel it is my duty to tell you to put on your big boy pants and move the hell on already."

"It's not like that," Peeta protested with a sigh. "I'm not holding onto a grudge. Katniss is just…" He struggled to find the words to convey how he felt. "Well, she's just toxic. I know you guys have become really good friends over the last couple years, and I don't begrudge you wanting to have her in your wedding party. But that doesn't mean I have to like it, and that doesn't mean I have to participate either."

Peeta was happy for Johanna; he really was. After school ended, she found herself in a really bad place. Several family members were lost in a tragic accident, and she turned to alcohol to numb a lot of the pain. When she finally hit rock bottom, Finnick and Annie and Peeta himself staged an intervention on her behalf, finally convincing her to get the help she needed. She went to rehab for several weeks, and then she began attending weekly AA meetings. There, she met her sponsor, a very sweet widower by the name of Wiress. At first, Johanna thought she was a little bit out there. Wiress was dating a very smart but socially awkward electrician named Beetee, and she had teasingly referred to the two of them as "Nuts and Volts."

But when Johanna found herself in the darkest of hours, Wiress had been there for her, and now the two of them were nearly inseparable. In Wiress, Johanna found the mother figure she never really had before. And those AA meetings brought her something else as well: Haymitch Abernathy, the love of her life. He too was an alcoholic, and although Peeta feared that he would tempt Johanna away from sobriety, it actually worked in the opposite way. They helped each other overcome their addiction, and although they knew it was something that never really went away, they could understand each other's missteps and weaknesses and help each other when the other one was down and out.

Now Johanna was getting married, something that none of them ever expected. She always seemed much too independent to want to be tied down to anybody for the long haul. But he supposed that people changed their minds all the time, especially when it came to love. And love was something that Peeta seemed to be choking on lately. He was the only one left of his friends who was still single. Finnick and Annie had tied the knot last year; Johanna was about to seal the deal once and for all. Apparently even Madge and Gale were engaged, not that he was particularly close to either of them. But Johanna had become friendly with them through her relationship with Katniss, and so they too were going to be at the wedding.

Johanna had opted for a very small wedding that only included her closest friends and family. At first, they were planning to elope at the courthouse. But then they decided to have a quaint little ceremony on the beach. With Wiress as her Maid of Honor, she'd asked Annie, Blight's girlfriend Camille, and Katniss to be her bridesmaids. Haymitch's Best Man was going to be his younger brother, but the groomsmen were supposed to be Finnick, Blight, and, of course, Peeta. It was one thing to attend the wedding. It was quite another thing altogether to have to be paired up with Katniss. He didn't think he could stomach the idea.

"Peeta," Johanna retorted. "You're lying to yourself if you think you're not still hung up on that girl. But I don't know what to tell you. She's just not that into you, man. Bring a date if you think that will help. I know you won't have any trouble finding someone that would want to go with you. Oh! What about that girl that works at the gallery? Delly, right? I've seen the way she looks at you. Clearly, she's interested."

"Yeah, she's nice but…" Peeta trailed off. That was literally the only thing he could think to say about Delly Cartwright. She was nice, really nice. And she was eager to do her job. Reliable, dependable, a really sweet girl. But there was absolutely nothing else there. No spark, no tension, no excitement. Nothing. He felt nothing when he thought about her.

"Look, I don't have time for this whole 'woe is me' act." He could practically hear Johanna's eyes rolling on the other line. "And I'm not going to bullshit you like Finnick does. Katniss is my friend, _you_ are my friend. And I want you both at my wedding. I'm not asking you to marry the girl. I'm asking you to grin and bear it for like a day, maybe two if you include the rehearsal dinner. Can't you just do that for me this one time?"

"Fine, I'll do it," Peeta relented with a sigh. She was right. This was her day, and he shouldn't let a wounded ego prevent him from being there for his friend. He knew she would do it for him if the roles were reversed. And besides, he _didn't_ have to marry the girl. He didn't even have to acknowledge her existence besides a few words here and there when necessary. "You're lucky I love you so much."

"Well, _duh_ ," Johanna teased. "I am pretty fabulous."

Peeta told himself that he wasn't affected when Katniss walked into the rehearsal dinner with her eyes gleaming like two silver dollars and her hair in an elegant braid that wrapped around the top of her head before draping across her right shoulder. He definitely wasn't affected when she smiled at him like no time had passed, that they hadn't spent the last two years and some change coming up with every excuse in the book to avoid each other. And when she finally stood beside him, and he caught a whiff of jasmine, a scent that had been permanently seared into his nostrils, his stomach only twisted with hunger, not nerves and certainly not butterflies.

He bumbled his way through the dinner, speaking only when spoken to, and hating himself a little more each time he realized he was staring at her again. After running through it a couple times, everybody was free to mingle. Katniss accidentally (accidentally?) brushed her arm against his when she stood, and he inhaled so sharply at the touch, he wouldn't be surprised if he sucked all of the air right out of the room.

Finnick strolled up to him casually and said, "Gonna grab a drink with the guys. You coming?"

"Yes," Peeta said immediately, not even flinching. A drink was exactly what he needed.

The throbbing in his skull when he crawled out of bed the next morning, like somebody had spent the night repeatedly hitting his head with a jackhammer, told Peeta that he probably drank a little too much. But he couldn't help it; he needed something to aid him in escaping the memory of the girl that haunted him at every fucking turn. And he definitely needed the liquid courage if he was going to get through the rest of this day. He spent a long time in the shower, letting the scalding hot water singe his skin as though it would cleanse Katniss right out of his system. Then he made himself some coffee, doused his eyes with drops to get the red out, and fussed with his unruly blonde curls.

The final touch was his tuxedo, the green bowtie adding a hint of color. Satisfied at last with his appearance, Peeta grabbed his keys and drove down to the beach where the wedding was taking place. He saw his fellow groomsmen first: Finnick, Blight, and Haymitch's brother Salix. But when he saw the bridesmaids huddled several yards away, tittering at some inside joke, he felt like time suddenly stood still.

Katniss Everdeen stood before him in her strapless, forest green gown that hung long and loose on her petite frame. It was lux chiffon, something he only knew because Johanna hadn't shut up about it; the bodice twisted before draping at her left side. In the bright morning sun, her swarthy skin glowed as though she'd spent several hours in a tanning booth, but he knew that was just her natural hair was in a gorgeous braided up do, and her gray eyes glowed with laughter and vitality. She was as radiant as the sun.

A slap on the back knocked him out of his trance, and he turned to see Finnick smiling at him good-naturedly. "Ready to do this? I still can't believe Jo's getting married." Peeta just nodded at him, fidgeting with his bowtie. Then Finnick noticed the direction he'd been staring at before squeezing his shoulder with support once more. "I told you, man. It's her loss."

"Yeah," he agreed with a noncommittal tone.

The ceremony was simple but touching, especially with Johanna and Haymitch reciting the vows they had written themselves. Just like the two of them, the words they spoke were biting and sarcastic but full of emotional heft and love, too. Peeta felt like he and Katniss were engaged in some kind of unspoken dance with each other, one that featured his favorite dance move: restraint.

He tried his hardest not to give in to her force of gravity, the one that always compelled him to her whenever she was in his proximity. He mumbled a few polite words here and there, lest he make the whole event awkward for everyone else. But when it was over, he escaped to the bar for some much-needed solitude.

"I think we're the only two single people here," a demure voice spoke behind him at last. He knew exactly who the voice belonged to; he didn't even have to look to confirm the fact. But he did anyway, his eyes briefly sweeping over Katniss before he set his gaze in another direction.

"And how do you know I'm single?" he asked, sipping at his champagne.

"Well, I guess I just assumed since you didn't bring a date."

"Pretty big assumption on your part," he retorted. And then with every ounce of courage he could muster, he added, "I'm not really in the mood for a chat right now."

He heard her release a large sigh. "I know you hate me, Peeta. And I know I probably deserve that."

For some reason, his chest tightened at her words. When he turned to face her this time, the expression in her eyes made him feel like he was going to shatter into a million pieces, right there on the beach. Maybe that was for the best; he could drift with the wind, float away from this awful burning sensation in his gut that was spreading throughout his entire body.

"You think I hate you?"

"Well, don't you?"

He was reminded of another conversation between the two, one that seemed to occur a lifetime ago. Swallowing slowly, he said, "No." After a slight pause, he continued, "I just don't know what to say to you anymore."

"I wish you would," she said. "Hate me, that is. My life would be so much easier if you did."

He frowned before acknowledging, "I've tried to, but I can't."

She nodded as though she knew it to be true. "And I've tried to escape you, but I can't. You're inevitable." His eyebrows lifted, and she added, "You always have been. I've never wanted to say it out loud because that would be like surrendering all control, admitting defeat. But the universe determined long ago that you and I were meant to be. It's our fate, you see. I can run from you until I'm blue in the face, but it doesn't matter. We'll always find our way back to each other. I know that now."

He shook his head. "I don't understand."

Twisting the ring on her finger anxiously, she explained, "When you walked into my tent all those summers ago, I didn't see your future, Peeta. I saw _my_ future. With you."

Peeta's heart started beating like a ceremonial drum inside his rib cage. _Thump. Thump. Thump._ The sound was so loud and cacophonous, reverberating inside his chest and echoing in his ears; he could barely concentrate on anything else. "What happens to us?"

He was terrified of the answer, but he had to know. After all these years, he had to know.

Her eyes were full of sorrow when she said, "We get married and have two children."

 _Oh God, oh God, oh God,_ he thought. _That's even worse than I thought. That's absolutely…_

"Wait," he licked his lips when the words actually registered in his brain. " _What?"_

"A girl and a boy," she confirmed quietly.

He just stared at her blankly. " _That's_ what's so awful, what you've been running from all these years? Marrying me and having my children?" Then he released something like an incredulous laugh, one laced with bitterness. "Wow."

Katniss frowned at his words.

" _Wow,_ " he uttered again in disbelief. "You really do hate me."

"No, that's–you totally… you're totally misunderstanding what I–"

He put down his glass. "Don't worry, Katniss. I won't ever touch you again. Me and my _dreaded_ offspring won't ruinyour life."

"Peeta, stop," she begged as she followed him down the beach, away from prying eyes and ears. "Let me explain what I mean. It's not you or our children that I've been running from! It's what comes with that future."

"A lot of sleepless nights," Peeta spit over his shoulder. "Got it. You don't want to be a mother." Then he abruptly stopped in his tracks, swiveling on his heel. "You know, you could've just told me that _years_ ago. All this time you let me think it was me!" He pointed at himself with frustration. But then a new thought occurred to him, and his face twisted with confusion. "Wait a minute, if you don't want children with me, why did you want to have so much sex in college? Unprotected sex at that?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I was trying to get pregnant."

His blue eyes narrowed into cold, icy slits. "Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?" He focused his stare to his right, watching as the late afternoon sun reflected off the sea. "Finnick tried to warn me about how crazy you were when I first met you, but I didn't listen. Because I thought I was crazy too… crazy for not being able to stop thinking about you. And maybe that was okay. We could be crazy together. But this is just beyond... I mean, you're certifiable."

When he glanced back at Katniss, her eyes were brimming with tears, and he felt guilty for saying such awful things to her. But what reason could she possibly have for acting this way?

"Prim is going to die," she choked out, her words so thick, he could see her practically gagging on them. At the realization of what she'd said, her hand shot up to cover her mouth.

Peeta's eyes widened with shock as he stared at the disconsolate girl in front of him. She began weeping uncontrollably, anguish flashing in her eyes, and his first instinct was to reach out and hold her. But as he wrapped his solid arms around her frame, he could feel her shaking violently against him. And soon she was too distraught to even hold herself up, slipping from his grasp into the sand below. As she collapsed onto the beach, Peeta went down with her. She cried and gasped for breath, halfheartedly pushing on his chest. But he just gathered her tightly into his embrace, securing his body around hers like a piece of armor.

"Shh," Peeta breathed into her hair. "It's okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Katniss continued to wail and thrash about until she'd expelled every ounce of energy from her body, finally surrendering to her physical and emotional exhaustion. As she went limp against his torso, she pleaded in a broken whisper, "Let me go."

"I can't."

Peeta heard her simper and still, her tears soaking through the front of his shirt. After minutes, hours, he wasn't even sure how long (because time never seemed to make any sense around Katniss), she lifted her head and stared up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He had the distinct impression that this was the first time she ever admitted that fact out loud to anyone, even herself.

"Do you want to go somewhere and talk?" Peeta asked gently.

She nodded while wiping at her eyes, and he helped her to her feet. She took off her heels, which were full of sand anyway, and carried them in her hand as they ambled toward the parking lot. Madge stood by the exit, smoking a cigarette, and she immediately frowned when she saw Katniss' expression.

"What happened?"

Katniss waved her hand. "We're just going to talk for a little while."

"Okay, well I'm here if you need me!" Madge called after them.

They sat in his stuffy car for the longest time, neither speaking a word. The silence was deafening, and it was starting to get under Peeta's skin after a while. He didn't want to push her, but he still had so many questions. Finally, he decided to test the waters a bit.

"How does it happen?" he wondered softly.

Katniss stared out the window, a faraway look in her glassy eyes. "It's when I'm giving birth to our first child. I go into premature labor, and you're not there."

"Where am I?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. That was one part of my vision that was pretty unclear. All I know is that you aren't there. But Prim is. She rushes me to the hospital, parking right in front of the emergency entrance. When the doctors place me into a wheelchair, she promises she'll be right back. She just has to park the car…" Her words trail off until she feels Peeta squeezing her hand tightly. Looking back at him, she notices the genuine sorrow in his eyes, and she forces the next words out. "And when she walks around to the driver's seat, some asshole who isn't looking hits her with his car and never looks back."

Her voice was extremely raw, as though she'd spent the whole morning screaming. "She dies almost immediately. There is nothing they can do to save her. And all the while, I have no idea what's happening. But I wake up a couple hours later to find I have a new daughter waiting for me… and a dead sister."

Peeta watched as the tears clouded her vision and streamed down her cheeks again. He reached out to hug her once more. "I'm so sorry," he offered in response, not knowing what else to say to make her feel any better.

"She's my baby sister," Katniss sniffled. "I love her more than anything. And she doesn't deserve to have her life ripped from her hands so suddenly. She's engaged when it happens; she's going to start her own family. And she's a nurse. She helps so many people. It's just not fair. Why do they have to take her from me? I would gladly change places with her if I could. But I can't. And she's the only family I have left."

"I can be your family," Peeta insisted. She looked at him with skepticism. "I know it's not the same thing. I know you'll always mourn your sister. But I _can_ be if that's what you want."

Katniss let go of his hand and sighed, avoiding his offer. "I'm sorry I never told you. I couldn't bring myself to accept it. And I thought I could change things somehow, alter the course and save her. That's what we always told our clients anyway. It wasn't a definitive look at the future. But I never had a vision as clear as that in my life. It rattled me to my core."

"It's okay. I… I understand." Peeta waited for her to continue, letting her take her time to gather her thoughts.

"At first, I ran. I figured if I never saw you again, I couldn't possibly marry you and have your children. But of course you showed up in my life again, and you _kept_ showing up in my life. I knew the universe was going to put you there no matter how much I protested my fate. Then I thought maybe I could trick the future in some way, have your child well before it was time. I mean, I was relentless…"

He couldn't help but chuckle slightly at her words. Relentless was certainly one way to put it.

"We had sex constantly. I did everything I was supposed to do, tried every position the Internet told me to try. The plan was to get pregnant and then just…" she shook her head. "Disappear. From you and from Prim. I would go far, far away where no one could find me and have the child there. But no matter what I did, I just couldn't conceive. Because it wasn't my time yet, I guess. And I knew it wasn't fair to you because I saw that you wanted more, that you were becoming attached. And as much as I tried to barricade my heart against you, to keep you at a distance emotionally if not physically…so was I." Katniss bit her lip. "So I ran again."

Peeta digested her words slowly. Finally, after all these years, everything was starting to make sense. Katniss Everdeen wasn't crazy; she was a fighter. Maybe life had forced her hand, but all she was trying to do was protect the person she loved more than anything in the world.

"I backpacked around Europe for years," she broke him out of his thoughts. "I knew it was only a matter of time before I ended up back here, but I needed that time to think. I wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet. I had so many demons inside of me, and I was plagued by nightmares of my dead sister's face. It was usually so full of life, so full of kindness. But all I saw when I went to sleep were those lifeless blue eyes of hers staring back at me.

There were men, so many different men that I tried to fill the void with. I thought maybe if I fell in love with somebody else, I could change my fate that way. But I felt even emptier when I left their beds. They weren't who I was supposed to be with. They weren't you."

He knew exactly what she meant, how he could be so close to a person but still feel miles and miles away from them. It was the loneliest feeling in the world, actually.

"And then one day, the visions stopped. The nightmares continued; they probably always will. But the future doesn't knock on my door anymore. I'd begged and begged for it to stop, and I got what I wished for, unfortunately. I took that as a sign to mean that maybe I'd finally done it. I'd finally changed my path.

But then Prim called with the news of our mother, and I ran into you at the New Year's party. I knew then it hadn't changed at all. You were still meant to be. But it was so nice talking to you; we'd never really done that before. Part of me thought that maybe we could be friends. You would still be a part of my life if we were friends, right? It was a technicality, but it could work. Or so I thought."

Katniss inhaled a shaky breath, moving a fallen strand of hair out of her face. "I missed you. I missed your touch. And letting you into my heart just made me want you even more. So I got stupid, and I got sloppy. I know I hurt you when I ran away again. I hated myself for doing that to you. But I told you, I'm stubborn. And allowing myself to be with you? Allowing myself to be happy? That was like sealing the tomb on my sister's fate." She choked back another sob. "I couldn't do it."

"And now?" he whispered, searching her eyes but feeling afraid of what she might say.

"I know I can't avoid it forever. I can't avoid you forever. And I wish to God I could see into the future now so I know what happens, if everything turns out okay or not. But I can't. I can't do anything but accept it."

Peeta clutched her hand again, rubbing her thumb softly. "Katniss, if this is going to happen between us, I don't want it to be because you feel forced. I know you love your sister more than anything, and I know you'll do anything to protect her. But I'm not going to live my life according to somebody else's rules. I'm more than just a piece in this game. I want you to be with me because you _want_ to be with me. I want you to be happy. And I want it to be real."

She chewed on his words for a long time before finally admitting, "I want to be with you, Peeta. I've wanted it for a long time."

"Really?"

Katniss leaned over to kiss him gently on the lips. "It's real," she breathed softly.

He smiled shyly at her, a flood of emotions swirling inside of him. "Can I take you somewhere?"

"Where?"

"You'll see." When he pulled up in front of the small art gallery he owned, her face split into a large grin. Looking at her expression, he said, "You told me to bring you here one day. Well, it's one day."

Peeta led her to the entrance. Then he pulled out a set of keys, unlocking the door. Walking hand-in-hand, they perused the halls and exhibits for a bit, her face lighting up as he narrated the story of each of the pieces. But then her eyes focused on a painting of his.

Katniss let go of him to get a better look. It was a picture of a meadow, blooming with dandelions in what appeared to be the early days of spring. Everything was intricately drawn, obviously requiring a very fine paintbrush and an even steadier hand. The colors and the details were so lucid, coming alive off the page."You did this?" He nodded at her question. "Wow, this is… unbelievably beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you," he said simply.

She tried to protest his words, but he dragged her by the hand until they were standing before a charcoal drawing. He watched her face as her pupils dilated in wonder; she seemed to be holding her breath. In front of them was a drawing of Katniss herself, her naked back exposed as she rested her face on the cusp of her right shoulder. Her hair hung loose and disheveled, but her eyes were closed as the morning sun cast a glow on her profile. She looked completely content in that moment, a small smile gracing her lips.

"When…" she shook her head. "When did you sketch this? That morning?"

"No," he said softly. "It was after that. I did it from memory."

When she glanced at him again, her eyes were once more lined with tears. "This is how you see me?"

"Most of the time," he said, shifting back and forth uncomfortably under the scrutiny of her gaze. "I mean, sometimes you drive me insane. But whenever I close my eyes, this is the vision that invades my dreams."

She looked sincerely moved, reaching up on her tip toes so she could wrap her arms around his neck and peck his lips. It started out slow and sweet, a kiss that seemed to convey everything she was feeling, from guilt over the way she'd treated Peeta to gratitude for the patience he'd showed her. Peeta enjoyed the gentle rhythm of her mouth against his own, losing himself in her the way he always did.

This time, he wasn't going to let her slip from his grasp. This time, she was here to stay.

Katniss sighed, her leisured strokes growing a bit frisky as she needled and cajoled his lips; her equally insistent hands tugged at his suit and hair. The heat between them was palpable, and Peeta soon found himself pinning Katniss to the wall. As their kisses grew frenzied, so did their actions. He could feel her hips gyrating against him, practically begging for his touch. Sparks ignited in his flesh as he stiffened at the contact, and when he reciprocated with his own hips, Peeta inhaled the moan right out of her throat. They moved in sublime synchronization, him feeding off of her sounds of pleasure.

She reached for his pants first, her fingers confident in their quest, and then they were both scooping up her long train, annoyed by its very existence as it kept them separated from each other. With her underwear discarded, Katniss hoisted herself into his embrace; her small frame latched around his larger one as she balanced between him and the wall. He could feel her whole body throbbing with need, moisture leaking down her thighs. But when he situated the head of his cock at her entrance, her eyes suddenly shot open.

"Wait," she protested with a push on his chest.

"What's wrong?" Peeta queried, his lungs on fire.

"Do you have a condom?"

His face fell instantly because he knew he didn't. They'd never used them before anyways. But when he recognized the sorrow in her eyes, his heart seized and his shoulders sagged.

"I can't," she bawled, her voice thick with emotion. "Peeta, I can't." Tears streamed down her face again. "Not yet," she pleaded, with him or the universe he wasn't sure. "I haven't said goodbye yet."

Peeta set her down gently, and she sobbed into his chest again as she clung to him like a piece of saran wrap. "It's okay," he breathed, kissing her head as he pet her hair. "We don't have to."

"I'm sorry," she said into his shirt.

"Hey," he cupped her face so that she would look at him again. "What are you sorry for? You don't have to be sorry."

Her eyes trailed down his body, indicating his erection. "I got you all worked up. I got _me_ all worked up. I really want to, but I just–I can't."

Peeta wiped at her tears before kissing her once more. "Come with me," he said. He grabbed her hand and led her through the gallery until they came upon a room in the back. "This is my office," he told her as he shut the door behind them. It wasn't particularly large, but there was a desk and a chair, along with several filing cabinets along the wall. "Sit down," he indicated as she took a seat on his desk, her eyes absorbing the new atmosphere.

"And what are we doing in here?" she asked, though he was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

Peeta grabbed his chair and placed it in front of her, taking off his bowtie and jacket. As he sat down, he rolled up his shirt sleeves and said, "Just because we can't do that doesn't mean we can't do other things…"

Katniss licked her lips, nodding in understanding. She gripped the material of her gown, pulling on it anxiously so that it became scrunched up at her waist. "Johanna's going to kill me if I ruin this dress," she said.

He grabbed her hips, urging them to the edge of the desk as he placed one of her legs over his shoulder. "She probably will," he murmured as he slowly licked the inside of her thigh. "But don't you think it'll be worth it?"

"Yes," she agreed, her eyes fully hooded as she anchored her hands to the desk.

Peeta's lips traversed her flesh, leaving heated kisses along every inch of her skin. Katniss was so wet already, her thighs coated in her arousal, and he allowed his tongue to soak it up, reveling in her taste. She moaned softly as he neared the place where she needed him the most. Her smell permeated his senses; it was like a hypnotic nerve agent, eliciting something primal inside of him, and he could feel his mouth begin to water as his taste buds prepared to consume her.

He licked along her slit, his stroke slow and deliberate, and he could feel her squirming already. He repeated the action a few more times, revving her up like an engine, and when his tongue sank into her slick folds, she reared to life loudly. Peeta's hands did their best to keep her steady as she writhed under the ministrations of his mouth.

Oral sex was not something the two of them did very much back in college; she was always so eager to get him inside of her. And he understood the reason now; cunnilingus didn't get a girl pregnant. Occasionally, she would give him head, and she'd allowed him to return the favor once or twice when he'd asked. But it'd been a long time since he had his face buried between her legs, and he intended to savor every single second of the experience.

He remembered the first time he tasted her; she was a bit tangy, almost metallic in a way. But there was also a slight creaminess to her as well. He hadn't gone down on too many other women at that point, but the combination of her smell and taste triggered an intense sexual reaction inside of him. He couldn't get enough of her, which is why she probably put a stop to it. It was too much, his mouth in her most intimate place. And it was difficult to keep him at arm's length when he was causing her to unravel piece by piece.

Peeta still couldn't get enough of her now. She tasted like want and desire poured over warm skin, something rough and soft and salty. His tongue continued to caress her swollen labia, his salivary glands working overtime, and he lapped up her juices as his cock pulsed with its own need. He felt her fingers weave through his locks of hair, tugging firmly. And when his name fell from his her lips in a plea, he knew exactly what she was asking of him.

Delicately, he brushed the tip of his tongue against her clitoris. She was extremely sensitive, so he had to work his way up to full contact. But when he did, massaging that electric bundle of nerves, he could feel her entire body tense around him.

"Shit," Katniss moaned, her fingernails clawing his desk. "Oh God, Peeta. _Please_."

He focused most of his attention on her clit, spurred on by her cries of bliss. He licked and sucked with determination, and her hips bucked wildly against his face. He knew she wasn't going to last much longer. As he tried to hold her down with one hand, he used the fingers on the other to scintillate her aching vulva.

" _Yes_ ," she whimpered, her head bobbing up and down quickly. "Touch me."

Peeta knew she enjoyed having something inside of her when she came, so he pressed two fingers into her vagina, groaning at the way her walls clutched them. Then his tongue went back to work, flicking her clit rapidly. He wiggled and stretched his fingers inside her, curling them toward himself, and soon she was dissolving like a cube of sugar in his mouth.

As her spasms subsided, he pulled his fingers out slowly, letting his tongue sop up the fluid that saturated her genitals and thighs. She continued to tremble slightly as the aftershocks of her orgasm flowed through her, and he could hear her trying to catch her breath. At long last, she went still. Peeta wiped his chin before standing between her legs and cupping her cheeks. He brought their mouths together for a tender kiss, letting her taste herself on his lips.

"You've always been so good at that," she sighed appreciatively. He gave her a lazy grin in response. "Thank you."

"I've been wanting to do it again forever," he said.

"And now it's my turn…"

He looked down at his crotch. "I'm so worked up right now, I might explode as soon as you touch me."

She pushed him back down onto his chair. "I guess we'll just have to see, now won't we?"

Katniss perched on her knees between his thighs, the expression on her face making him shudder. Her hand enveloped him fully, and she bathed the head with her warm breath, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up and pay attention. Then her tongue moved to the bottom of his shaft before skating back up the side. He inhaled at the contact, his fingers twisting in her braid as she continued lubricating him with her mouth. She tickled his balls, her nails lightly scratching them before she turned her head and very delicately teased his length with her teeth.

"Fuck," he gasped, melting into the chair. Her tongue dipped into the tip of his cock before licking the rim below the head. She was incredible, her _mouth_ was incredible, and he wanted to watch every single thing she was doing to him. But when she began sucking on his flesh, he lost that battle with himself. Her lips sealed around him, wet and hot, and his eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

She moved up and down on him, alternately licking and kneading his shaft, drawing out every ounce of pleasure that was embedded in his skin. His pelvis thrust upward, and he felt like he starting to become unhinged. His chest heaved quickly as he searched for air he couldn't seem to find, and his veins jerked so intensely that he thought the ground might actually be quaking beneath him. Peeta gripped the sides of his chair as a powerful energy emanated in the soles of his feet, traveled up the back of his legs, in and through his rear, and coiled in his stomach.

"Katniss…" he managed to choke out in warning before he lost control, his semen spurting into her throat. He watched her swallow it, licking him clean. Then he sank down onto the floor beside her, his ragged breaths the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, and he rested his against hers as their fingers intertwined.

After a long while, Peeta finally spoke. "I'll be there when you go into labor. I won't disappear on you. And Prim won't have to bring you to the hospital," he insisted.

"You say that now, but who knows what'll happen when the time comes? Unless you surgically attach yourself to my hip, you can't make promises like that," she told him.

"Then we won't have children," Peeta shrugged. "I don't need them as long as I have you. You're all I've ever wanted, anyway."

"It doesn't matter how many precautions we take. No forms of birth control are foolproof. We're bound to mess up somewhere; especially if that's what the universe wants. We're human. We make mistakes."

"So… we won't have sex? At least not intercourse. It will be really, really hard, but–"

Katniss just shook her head. "You and I both know that's not going to happen."

Peeta sighed. "You can have a hysterectomy," he said softly.

Her eyes filled with tears again. "I almost did," she admitted. "Back when I was in Europe. I had the operation scheduled and everything. But at the last minute, I couldn't. I just couldn't go through with it." He turned her face to look at him. "I want to have children. I never thought I did, but I do. I want to have _your_ children. I just need a little more time. I want to give Prim a little more time."

He nodded in understanding. Finally, to ease the tension in the room, he asked, "So when do we get married?"

"I guess whenever one of us proposes," she said smartly.

"Are you going to propose to me?" Peeta smiled, his blue eyes glimmering with mirth.

Katniss stuck her chest out, her hands resting on her hips playfully. "And what if I did? What would you say?"

"I would say we should probably have a real date first."

* * *

Katniss walked into the kitchen of her and Peeta's new home, collapsing into a chair. It was a nice house, a little above the cost they had budgeted for. But with Peeta's art gallery finally thriving and Katniss working as a music teacher at the local elementary school, as well as giving singing lessons on the side, they were in a good place financially to do it. And they were able to splurge a little bit extra on their dream house. Besides, it had three bedrooms, which they knew they would need in the future. So it was a house that would grow with them as their family grew in size as well.

They'd gotten married last summer, after a whole year of dating. Peeta was the one who actually proposed, and Katniss said yes through her tears. But she assured him they were happy tears this time; not tears of guilt or sadness. At the wedding, Peeta finally met Prim, and she was every great word Katniss had used to describe her and then some. It stung inside his chest a bit, knowing that this special young woman was going to die, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.

But Katniss had finally come to terms with her sister's death. It wasn't that she accepted it, per se. But a life stricken with fear, knowing that something awful was coming around the corner at all times, was no way to live at all. As long as she knew that Prim's death had some kind of value or purpose, and as long as she could say a proper goodbye, Katniss figured she could finally let her go. She'd spent her whole life trying to keep her sister alive, not just since that one summer when Peeta came traipsing into her tent. She'd been keeping Prim alive since their father died and their mother mentally checked out. In fact, she'd been responsible for her as long as she could remember, as though she were her own mother instead of her sister.

Katniss loved Prim with all of her heart, but she loved Peeta, too. And she loved her unborn children. As much as he would never admit it out loud, and as much as he never forced the issue, she knew that Peeta wanted those children as much as she did. They deserved a chance at life. She promised herself that she would never ever regret that decision, and she would never ever make them feel unloved like her own mother had. Or Peeta's mother had made him feel as well. Their children would only know happiness, not sorrow or heartache.

A little over seven months ago, Prim began dating a really nice guy named Aevum, and Katniss told Peeta it was time. In her vision, Prim was engaged to this man, so she knew she would be getting pregnant sooner rather than later. But after months and months of trying, the two had yet to conceive. Something was off about it, and Katniss couldn't quite put her finger on it. But she knew her body well enough to know that something just didn't feel right. So she took it upon herself to see a fertility doctor. And when she got the results back from him, she went to see two more fertility doctors.

Katniss stared at a spot on the kitchen stove that she knew she'd be scrubbing away later as she tried to digest the results in her hand. "Peeta!" she called out. "Peeta, are you home?" Sighing, she trudged through their house, finding him in his art studio.

Peeta looked up when he noticed her standing at the threshold. Her eyes glossed over the pages in front of him, and he scrambled to hide them before he realized it was too late. She'd already seen his surprise. He'd been working on drawings for a bayonet, something Finnick had offered to make them as a gift when the two finally got pregnant. He was self-taught, having made one for his own son when he was born. But Finnick was really good with his hands, and he had taken up woodworking as a side hobby.

"You caught me," Peeta said sheepishly. "I was going to surprise you when the news was official." Her lips curved into a frown, and he put down his colored pencils. "What's wrong?"

"I just came back from the doctor," she said.

"And is everything okay?" he asked warily.

"No," she said, and he couldn't quite read the expression on her face. "I'm infertile."

Peeta opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, her words not making any sense. "You're infertile?"

"I can't have children."

"You should get a second opinion," Peeta insisted.

"I did," she told him. "Three different doctors told me the same thing."

"But… but what about your vision?"

She glanced around the studio at the various easels and art supplies, as though looking at him was too hard. "I don't know," she said. "I guess… I guess my future changed?"

Peeta didn't respond.

"What are you thinking?"

"I don't know what to think," he said honestly. The two of them had spent the last several years preparing for doomsday, and Katniss had spent even longer than that avoiding him because she was afraid to get pregnant with his child. And now that was not even possible? What kind of sense did that make? Were all of those other psychics wrong as well? He licked his lips in haste. "What did the doctors suggest?"

Katniss cleared her throat. "They suggested a lot of things: fertility treatments, surrogacy, adoption. We have options, but…"

Peeta's stomach churned at the relief he saw washing over her features. He wasn't going to lie; it hurt. "But?"

"Maybe our fate has changed. And maybe we shouldn't mess with that." She anxiously tugged on her braid, the one she often wore these days because it was easier than drying her hair. "Besides, that means that Prim–"

"…doesn't die," he finished softly, trying really hard to hide the sadness in his voice. "I understand."

"Do you?" She walked over to him, picking up the drawings of the bayonet he had been working on. "I know how much you wanted this."

"I did," he admitted. There was no point in lying. "But I want you to be happy more. And if that means you get more time with your sister, then that's a good thing." He squeezed her hands gently, bringing her down onto his lap. With a gentle kiss, he said, "Maybe in the future we can talk about some of those other options. But even if we don't, I have the girl of my dreams in my arms, the house I've always wanted, and the job I love. What more could I ask for?"

"I don't want you to resent me," she whispered, fear settling in her eyes.

"I could never resent you," he promised into her lips. Then he sealed that promise with a searing kiss.

Katniss pulled away from him momentarily. "I saw it happening with my own eyes. She was dead, Peeta. I didn't make it up."

"Of course you didn't. Why would you ever do something like that? I'm not upset with you, if that's what you think. You believed it with all of your heart and soul. And I believed you. I still do. I'll always believe in you, Katniss."

"And I'll always believe in you, too. We're in this together, right?"

"Right."

She nodded at his confirmation. "I got something for you."

His forehead crinkled with surprise. "You did?"

She left his studio to retrieve her gift, and when she handed it to him, he chuckled softly. "Body paint?"

"You might not be able to have a baby with me. But you can use me for something else."

"And what's that?"

Katniss began undressing in front of him, loving how he looked at her like he was seeing her for the very first time. And to Peeta, it felt like he was. Everything around them was black and white, but Katniss… she was color. Color so brilliant, it illuminated every piece of his vital matter until he was reflecting it right back at her. Together, they shined. And knew he'd always be okay as long as she was by his side.

When she was standing before him completely nude, Katniss said, "I'm your own personal canvas. Make your masterpiece."

Peeta walked over to her slowly, cupping her breast. She sighed as he lowered his mouth to her, murmuring into her skin. "But you're already a masterpiece. And you were long before I ever met you." He marked her with his tongue as if he was branding her, and she allowed him to stake his claim.

But eventually, she peeled herself away from him, placing a drop cloth onto the floor. "Fine, you'll be my canvas then. Take off your clothes." He smirked but did what she asked, watching her open the paint. She told him to get on the ground, and he waited while she mixed several colors together on a pallet. Then she got onto her knees beside him, setting it down. Immediately, he noticed what colors she'd mixed: yellow, black, and various shades of orange.

With her index finger doused in yellow, she drew a circle over his right bicep. Peeta watched himself closely as she filled it in, the wet paint cool against his flesh. She used it like a lubricant, her finger rimming his nipple until it peaked beneath her touch. Then she blew on it softly, the warmth of her breath causing him to shiver. And soon that same warmth was spreading throughout his entire body. Her movements were slow but precise; he enjoyed the look of concentration on her face as she layered the various shades of orange across his chest.

"Sunset," she said when she was finished. "Because it's your favorite."

"You're a regular Picasso, aren't you?"

She scowled at his teasing, pushing his shoulder, and he laughed heartily at her expression. "I'm kidding. It's perfect."

"Wait. Not yet." She dipped her finger into the black paint, spelling something across his lower abdomen. As the letters KATNISS formed across his skin, he smiled softly at her. "There. Now it's perfect."

"Is this your way of saying I'm yours?"

"Maybe," she shrugged nonchalantly. The smile stretched across his face even wider, and he tugged her close for a kiss.

"I like being yours," he told her.

"Good. Because I like being yours, too."

They spent a while experimenting with the paint, covering each other's bodies with their various creations. And when they were all worked up from their tantalizing caresses, Katniss slipped into his lap. His arms folded around her securely, capturing her against his chest, and their skin stuck together due to the paint. She stared into his eyes as she sank down onto him slowly, his hot breath wafting across her face. Then they moved in tandem with one another, the colors on their flesh smudging and swirling until they became a beautiful, complicated mess.

"We're the masterpiece," Katniss insisted, her voice thick with emotion. And as he burned deeply inside of her, soaked by all of her love and pleasure, Peeta knew she was right.

They were the greatest masterpiece of all.

A month later, they were standing in their kitchen making dinner when the phone rang. "I got it," Katniss announced as he returned to chopping the onion in front of him. Since learning about Katniss' infertility, the two of them were closer than ever. And their sex life was better as well. Without the pressure of trying to have a baby or the guilt of knowing the cost of that baby, Katniss and Peeta felt much freer in the bedroom, more so than they'd ever felt with one another. They were able to try many new things, so many other positions that weren't conducive to getting pregnant. And the boundaries between what they would or wouldn't do were beginning to shrink, too.

"Yes, this is Mrs. Mellark," he heard her say into the telephone behind him, causing a smile to break out across his face. _Mrs. Mellark._ No matter how many times he heard her say it, it never lost its charm. And after his stomach was full of food, he couldn't wait to have his way with Mrs. Mellark again.

The sudden crash of something hitting the ground met his ears, along with a cry of agony erupting from Katniss' throat. He swiveled on his heel in an instant, watching as she slid down against the wall, her entire body shaking like she'd just been attacked. She whipped her head back and forth as her obvious torment spread through her.

"Katniss?" he asked in a panic, gripping her face as the tears splashed over his hands. "What's wrong?"

"NO!" she bellowed from deep in her gut, the complete and utter horror on her face scaring him shitless. "No, no, no!" she continued to wail in complete despair, burying her face in her arms.

Unable to get her to talk to him, he picked up the phone and barked, "Who's this?"

"Is this Peeta Mellark, Mrs. Mellark's husband?" a male voice queried on the other end.

"Yes, this is Peeta Mellark," Peeta spoke impatiently. "What the hell is going on? What did you say to my wife that's got her so upset?"

"Sir, this is Detective Thread with the Panem County police. Your wife, Katniss Everdeen Mellark, was listed as the emergency contact for one Primrose Everdeen, is that correct?"

"Yes," he insisted. "What's going on with Prim?" He was ready to throttle this guy if he didn't give him some information soon. Katniss was still rocking on her heels, blubbering on incessantly about how it was a mistake. It wasn't real.

It wasn't real.

Detective Thread sighed empathetically. "Sir, I regret to inform you that there was a shooting at the hospital where your sister-in-law works." As the words hit his eardrums, everything around Peeta went out of focus. The detective continued to ramble on about a man who came into the cardiac wing at approximately 4:55 PM that evening. He opened fire on the head cardiologist before turning his gun on several of the nurses working on the wing. Then he turned the gun on himself. The cardiologist was currently in the critical care unit, along with one other of the nurses.

Peeta stared at his wife in disbelief, feeling as though a freight train had come straight through their kitchen and hit them both head on. This wasn't supposed to happen. Katniss was infertile. They weren't having any children. Prim was safe. She was supposed to be _safe_. Katniss was still crumpled on the ground, her shoulders shaking with her piercing sobs, and he knew that she wasn't just wringing out the grief of this very moment but every single bit of heartache and sorrow and guilt she'd experienced since that infamous summer when they first met.

His own eyes filled with tears as he sucked in a precarious breath. "And Prim? Is she okay?"

He wasn't sure why he bothered to ask because he already knew the answer. Katniss had seen it coming all those years ago; the message had just been confused.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mellark," the detective said regrettably. "Primrose Everdeen is dead."

* * *

Peeta stepped into his house after a long day at the gallery. People were finally starting to look at him with something other than pity in their eyes. As much as he appreciated the concern, he was tired of all the fretting, particularly from Delly Cartwright. He stared at the tupperware in his hand.

"It's tunafish casserole," she told him. "You only have to heat it up for a few minutes."

It was almost as though one of his own brothers had died. But Delly had gotten on his case last week about being too thin. Maybe he had lost a bit of weight; it wasn't unheard of in the wake of a tragedy. But he wasn't the one people should be worrying about. Walking into the kitchen, he noticed that it'd gone unused once again. The lights in the house were all turned off, and he sighed heavily as he placed the tunafish casserole into the microwave.

Peeta was more than capable of keeping himself fed, but it was hard to maintain his appetite these days. Not when he sat in this kitchen all by himself eating every meal in the dark. He missed his wife. He missed her laughter and her conversation and her gray eyes challenging him when they sat down to dinner. He missed the fact that sometimes they were so hungry for each other, the food would end up discarded on the table or even the floor as they consumed each other instead.

He chewed his food without tasting, practically swallowing it whole, before rinsing out the container Delly had lent him for the evening. Then he placed it back onto the counter, making a mental note to bring it with him to work in the morning. Sighing, he loosened his tie and dragged his lethargic body up the stairs.

Katniss was in the same place he left her this morning, the same place she'd refused to leave for the last two months. With a burdened heart, he slipped off his shoes and his jacket, placing them in the closet. Then he crawled into their bed, wrapping himself around Katniss' listless body. She didn't even react to his touch, staring at some imaginary spot on the wall. Ever since her sister's death, she'd been inconsolable, refusing to get up or go to work, even eat. She felt so thin in his arms, like she might shrivel up and disintegrate if he put too much pressure on her. And she was always a fairly small woman, but he knew this was unhealthy even by her own standards. Sometimes, she allowed him to feed her, for which he was grateful.

But she refused to speak to a therapist, not even the one that Johanna recommended. Apparently, he had been invaluable in helping her deal with her own trauma and demons. Katniss chose to wallow in her pain, plagued by nightmares of Prim's dead body. After the shooting, the police had needed her to come down to the morgue and confirm it was in fact her sister. But seeing her lying on that table, her skin so pallid and her limbs so still, this beautiful girl who wouldn't even hurt a fruit fly if she were asked, confirmed that it was indeed real. She had been viciously gunned down and murdered for reasons that had nothing to do with her. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, delivering a message to a friend.

Realizing that her death had no purpose, that it was simply a fluke, sent Katniss spiraling into a tornado of grief she had yet to find her way out of. Nothing anybody did helped her feel any better. Not Madge's unrelenting support, not Johanna's dose of tough love, and certainly not Peeta's reminder that she knew this was coming. That she made her peace with it long ago.

But she hadn't, she insisted. She'd been lulled into a false sense of security after being convinced for nearly half her life that she was going to be responsible for her own sister's death. At least, in that scenario, she died helping to bring another life into this world. She died taking care of someone, which is the kind of death her sister deserved. Not this awful, mindless death she had been given. _That_ she hadn't made any peace with. And in her heart of hearts, she was angry. So very angry. And not just at the man who did it. She was angry because she'd been used as a piece in a game she never wanted to play. It was what Peeta had said to her that one time, about how he refused to go along with it.

Yet, here she was. Given the ability to see into the future but not the ability to change any of it. And when her body betrayed her, making her infertile, the universe decided to torment her sister in a way that was even crueler than before. What was the point, Katniss wondered? What was the point of anything?

Maybe she didn't pull the trigger, but she sure as hell designed the gun.

Peeta buried his head into Katniss' neck, breathing in her familiar scent. Finnick and Annie had dropped by earlier to keep her company, but they told Peeta it wasn't a particularly good day for her. Something had upset her stomach earlier, and the only reason she'd even crawled out of bed was so that she could puke her guts out in the toilet. When he touched her arm, he noticed that she felt a bit warmer than usual. Maybe she was coming down with something, as if she needed that on top of everything else.

"Do you feel okay?" Peeta put his hand on her forehead, frowning as he did so. "I think you might have a slight temperature."

Katniss said nothing in response.

"I love you so much, Katniss. And you know I'm here for you however you need me to be. If you just want me to lay here with you while you cry and curse at the world, I'll do it," Peeta insisted. "I've _been_ doing it. But you're beginning to scare me, sweetheart. You're so weak, and you barely eat anymore. I know you don't want it, but I really think you need help."

She stiffened a bit in his grasp.

"Johanna swears by this Dr. Aurelius guy. He's supposedly one of the best out there, and talking to him might do you some good. We could set up an appointment, just a preliminary appointment–"

"No," Katniss said flatly.

Peeta sighed. "Will you at least get looked at tomorrow? Make sure you don't have the flu or something."

There was a long, lingering moment of silence, and Peeta feared she would turn down this request as well. "Okay," she whispered at last.

Squeezing her tightly, he said, "Thank you."

Peeta told her he would drive her to a clinic tomorrow, but Katniss insisted he go to work. Madge would bring her instead. When he pulled into the driveway the next evening, holding onto some other casserole dish Delly had made for him, he let out a large sigh. He'd called Madge earlier to find out how everything had gone, and she'd dismissed him pretty quickly, insisting she had to take another call. Now he was worried about what he was going to find when he stepped into his house.

Much to his surprise, the lights were all on, and there was noise coming from the kitchen. With his brow furrowed, he wandered in; his pupils immediately dilated when he noticed Katniss standing over the kitchen counter stirring something in a pot. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating from lack of sleep, but she was still there when he blinked them again, humming to herself.

"What's going on?"

Katniss turned around, her face lighting up with a smile. "Just making dinner. It should be done in a few minutes, so you're right on time."

He had trouble finding his voice as he carefully scrutinized the woman in front of him. Was this his wife or some crazy clone that had been sent here to replace her? Maybe he'd been watching too much TV lately. But he didn't understand the drastic change in her mood. She was still pretty thin, but her eyes were far less hollow than they'd been in months. And she was smiling at him, _actually_ smiling. He almost forgot how breathtaking she was, how her smile could light up his entire day, his entire life actually. His heart swelled in his chest, relief coursing through his veins.

"I hope you're as hungry as I am," she added, checking something in the oven. "I could probably eat a whole cow at this point."

"So… you're not sick?"

When she saw the hopeful expression on his face, she said, "I think you should sit."

Her tone became a little more subdued, and that worried him a bit, but he pulled out a chair anyway. Katniss checked the food one more time before sitting down across from him. Her eyes bounced around his face, as though she was trying to memorize every single detail, and then she exhaled, "I was wrong."

"About what?" Peeta wondered, biting his lip.

"About everything," she said quietly. "This whole time I thought I was the fool, that the future was screwing with me just to screw with me. I saw Prim dying in a vision that was connected to the birth of our daughter, and I always thought that meant something very specific. In order for her to live, Prim had to die. It was an awful truth, but it was one that I had at least come to terms with. It _meant_ something. But then I couldn't have children, and she died anyway. She was murdered in cold blood, just because some guy didn't like a decision some cardiologist made…" she trailed off. "It couldn't have been about us or our child then. It had to be about _her_. It was always about Prim. And I couldn't stop it. I couldn't save her."

Her eyes dimmed for a moment when she spoke those words, as though she were transported somewhere else. When Peeta reached across the table to squeeze her hand, she shook those unpleasant thoughts away and smiled at him again. When he saw the light return to her eyes, he said, "I don't follow. What does all that mean?"

"I _was_ the fool, Peeta. I was the biggest fool. My vision of Prim being hit by a car while I was delivering our baby was a message. But this whole time, I'd been interpreting it wrong."

"About the way she was going to die?" he wondered.

She shook her head emphatically. "No, about what it meant. Our daughter wasn't born so that Prim would die. Prim died so that our daughter would have a chance at life."

His eyes narrowed skeptically.

"Her death did have meaning, Peeta," she insisted. "She sacrificed herself so that we could know our daughter, so that we could hold her in our arms, so that we could love her. And I know that Prim is out there somewhere. She's watching us with that childlike smile plastered to her face, that perceptive look in her eyes. All she ever wanted was to help people, to make their lives better. And she did. She really did." Katniss nodded as though she finally understood, her eyes welling with tears. "Her last gift to me is one I will always cherish."

Peeta's breath became trapped inside his chest, the meaning of her words starting to sink in. "Katniss, what are you saying?"

She gently placed her hand on her stomach.

"I'm pregnant."


End file.
